


Lost and Found

by Alexandria (heartfullofelves)



Series: Torchwood Four [2]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 03, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mentions of Canonical Character Deaths, Multi, New Zealand, Post-Season/Series 02, Torchwood Four
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-08 14:23:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 39,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1944501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartfullofelves/pseuds/Alexandria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Toshiko and Owen's deaths, something important turns up, something that has been lost for a very long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> For this fic we'll pretend that Series 1 and 2 happened later than they did, with Exit Wounds taking place in 2014.

**_Cardiff, December 2014_ **

 

Ianto couldn’t believe his eyes. _It can’t be,_ he thought _. After all this time…_ The fourth branch of the Torchwood Institute had gone missing over a hundred years ago, just disappeared. Why would they suddenly turn up and want to make contact now? And strangest of all, why were they _there_ and not in Belfast? It didn’t make sense. _I must be dreaming, or hallucinating, or something_ , he reasoned.

Ianto blinked and refreshed the webpage, but his screen told him the same thing. He pinched his wrist to double-check. So it had to be true. He wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating.

He ran up to Jack’s office, startling Gwen, who had just arrived, and barged in through the door. “Jack!” he exclaimed.

The leader of Torchwood Three looked up from his computer and grinned as he laid eyes on the beautiful Welshman. He put down his coffee cup. “Such enthusiasm for a Monday morning,” he drawled, noticing the excitement on Ianto's face and in his voice. “What is it, Ianto?” He gestured for the young man to come closer.

Ianto came and stood in front of the desk, clearing his throat as he did so. “It’s Torchwood Four, Jack - they’ve been found.”

Jack’s expression grew serious; he sat up straight. “Tell me everything,” he demanded.


	2. Over and Under

_“Where?”_ Jack asked yet again.

Ianto sighed. “Auckland, Jack. I can see you haven’t studied Geography since coming to Earth, though you’ve been here long enough. It’s in _New Zealand_. Torchwood Four was meant to be in Northern Ireland, but it’s turned up in a country on the other side of the world.”

Gwen had been called in for this little meeting; now she spoke up. “Isn’t New Zealand tiny?” she asked.

Ianto sighed. If he’d been expecting her to say anything useful, he was disappointed. “Actually,” he replied, “the population of NZ is bigger than that of Wales, so that’s not quite true. Anyway, the question is: why is Torchwood Four in New Zealand?”

Jack put his hand up like a young schoolboy. “I have an idea,” he announced. “Why don’t we ask them?”

He shooed his two team members out of the office after getting a number from Ianto, and picked up the phone. Ten minutes later he called them back in.

“So I just got off the phone to a Ms C. Grey, the leader of Torchwood Four. Cute accent, sounded like she was singing. I didn’t get the full story but she mentioned the _Titanic_ and some earthquake as the reasons why they’re in Auckland,” he shrugged. “She also implied that they’re overstaffed, so are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Gwen got it right away. “They’re overstaffed and we’re... understaffed.” She almost choked on the word - the loss of Tosh and Owen was not just the loss of Torchwood employees but the loss of dear friends. She thought about them every day, missed them every time she passed the two deserted workstations - they all did. But as much as they missed their technician and their medic, they had to think about this from a professional point of view, and the truth was that productivity had decreased significantly since the deaths of Toshiko Sato and Owen Harper.

Ianto was quick to see where this was going and he opened his mouth. “We can’t replace them,” he protested.

Jack gave him and Gwen a sympathetic look. “We can’t replace them in our hearts, but their roles need to be filled.” His voice was gentle as he knew that this was a touchy subject for all of them. The recent deaths had hit them all hard and they were never going to forget it. He put one arm around each of his remaining team members and said, “Auckland has a team of seven; we have a team of three. It only makes sense that we sort something out.”

Ianto furrowed his brow, still not warming up to the idea of replacing Owen and Tosh.

“What sort of something?” asked Gwen.

“Ms Grey suggested that we go and visit them. We’ll be able to see how they run things there and maybe recruit from their team,” Jack explained.

“Makes sense,” Gwen and Ianto agreed, albeit without enthusiasm on Ianto’s part.

“Yeah,” Jack gave a tight smile. He didn’t like this much more than they did, but it had to be done. “But someone will need to stay behind and monitor the Rift. Usually that someone would be me, but in this case I really need to be there to meet with the personnel of our branch in Auckland. So the problem is which of you will come with me?”

Gwen and Ianto looked at each other for a split second. Ianto shrugged, while Gwen almost jumped up and down, not from the prospect of replacing two invaluable colleagues but from the idea of going somewhere new. Jack watched their contrasting reactions and sighed inwardly. He’d hoped to take his lover on this trip, but it seemed that Gwen was the one who wanted to go. Wondering why Ianto didn't seem so keen made him realise that maybe he didn’t know the young man as well as he thought. Jack made a note to ask him about it later that night; for now, though, he put the thought aside and remained focussed on the more important issue.

“Gwen it is,” he decided. “Ianto, are you sure you don't want to come?”

“Yeah,” replied the man in question. “You said yourself that someone needs to monitor the Rift, and besides, I don't like travelling very much. Aeroplanes make my sinuses go crazy, and not in a good way.”

“Okay.” Jack nodded and kissed Ianto's cheek. Then he retrieved his arms from where they had still been wrapped around Gwen and Ianto, and turned back to his computer screen. “Guess I’d better book flights and accommodation and sort out visas. Gwen, you have a valid passport?”

“Of course,” she grinned. “Always prepared, isn’t that right?”

Jack returned the grin, tapping away at the keyboard. Moments later he looked up at Gwen and announced, “We’ll leave from London on Friday morning and arrive in Auckland on Saturday evening. Pack enough for two weeks – we’ll get back on Christmas Day.” He leant back in his chair and put arms up behind his head. “Mm, you and me on a summer holiday in New Zealand. Would be perfect under normal circumstances. I’d suggest that you invite Rhys, but this is, unfortunately, a business trip.”

“That’s a shame,” Gwen sighed. “He and I could really use a holiday right now.”

“Tell you what,” said Jack, “if we return with new staff members, the three of us will have the rest of the _year_ off.”

Gwen squealed. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

Ianto coughed. “You do realise, of course, that ‘the rest of the year’ will be five days?”

Gwen stopped. “Oh.” But she brightened up again soon enough. “Still, five days off! I haven’t had that big a holiday since my honeymoon.” She reached out to hug Jack. “Can I go home to pack?” she asked.

Jack looked at her in disbelief. “We still have over three days before we go.”

She looked back at him. “I’m a girl,” she said simply, as if that explained everything. “It might take that long.”


	3. Up and Away

Jack decided that they would leave after work on Thursday night, because if they drove from Cardiff to London on Friday morning they would have to leave at a ridiculously early hour. Getting up at four to drive for two hours and thirty five minutes to get to the airport on time was definitely not practical, so leaving the night before was the best option. Gwen turned up in the morning with a suitcase, her handbag almost bursting open.

“Two weeks, not two months,” Ianto commented with a raised eyebrow.

“One must always be prepared,” she said, flicking him off.

“So how was Rhys?” asked Jack.                                                       

Gwen sighed. “I kind of lied and said that all three of us were going…”

Jack just looked at her.

“What? I couldn’t say that it’s just us, could I? He would never let me go if he knew.”

“I thought you’d decided to stop lying to him.” Jack crossed his arms.

“Yeah, I did,” she replied. “It’s just…”

Ianto stepped in. “I understand. He’s jealous of Jack because you’re always here and not at home with him. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with him being insecure about his looks,” Jack teased, voice dripping with sarcasm, and Gwen gave him a soft punch on the arm. “Hey! I can’t help that I won in the genetic lottery.”

“That you did, Jack, that you did,” Ianto agreed.

“Don’t be mean, you two!” Gwen huffed. “Rhys is lovely.”

“Right, yes, of course. Wouldn’t dream of insulting him.”

“He’s a real sweetheart to put up with you, Gwen.”

She turned her back to them and switched on her computer. Jack made eye contact with Ianto, trying not to laugh too hard. It was easy to get a rise out of her, and much too fun to refrain from doing so. The trick was knowing when to stop, knowing not to go too far. Gwen had stopped them before they could go too far - this time.

Jack smirked, and put his arms around Ianto. “Right, you get to work. I want to see that report before lunch, and then I have a surprise for you.” Ianto eyed Jack with suspicion, biting his lip. “Relax,” Jack laughed. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

Ianto nodded, untangling himself from Jack's embrace. “Alright, I’ll get to it.”

“Great.” Jack ruffled his hair and walked to his office, ignoring Ianto’s curses. The Welshman did _not_ like having his hair messed up.

At quarter past twelve, Ianto put the report on Jack's desk. “Just let me get my coat and let’s go,” said Jack, leaving Ianto to frown and wonder where they were going. He followed Jack out of the hub. “Gwen, we’re going out for lunch. Want us to bring you back something?” Jack called.

“No thanks,” Gwen shouted back. “Have fun.”

“Where are we going?” asked Ianto as they got into Ianto’s car, leaving Gwen the SUV in case there was an emergency in the one hour that they expected to be out. To Ianto’s mild irritation, Jack claimed the driver’s seat, even though it wasn’t his car. _Some things never change._

“We’re going to have lunch.”

“I gathered that, but _where_?” Ianto persisted.

Jack glanced at his lover. “You really don’t like surprises, do you?” he observed, not for the first time.

“When you work for Torchwood, most surprises aren’t good ones,” Ianto explained, turning to look at Jack. “I guess you learn to be wary all the time.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Jack reassured Ianto by placing his hand over his. “Wanna know a secret? I hate surprises too.”

“Damn! There go me and Gwen’s plans for your surprise birthday party.” For a minute Jack thought Ianto was serious, but then he laughed.

“Okay, we’re going to a fancy Italian restaurant I thought we’d both like. Pizza for you and hot Italian waiters for me.” The captain waggled his eyebrows.

“It’s lucky I didn’t decide to go casual today, then,” Ianto smiled. At Jack’s questioning look, he added, “My clothes. And in case you’re wondering, while you and Gwen are off on your trip, I won’t be wearing a suit. In fact, I intend to wear track pants and a t-shirt the entire two weeks that you’re gone. And you don’t have an iron or a decent mirror, so I’m gonna look pretty rugged. When you come back you’ll forget you ever saw me in a suit."

“Stop with the dirty talk, Jones, or I’ll have to pull over and take you in the backseat,” Jack growled.

Ianto smiled at that, and shut it, bringing Jack’s left hand, which was entwined with his, up to his lips and kissing it.

Jack thought he could feel his heart melt; it was just such a sweet, unexpected gesture from the younger man. “I’m going to miss you,” he found himself blurting out.

Ianto smiled, but said, “I doubt it. You’ll be having way too much fun meeting the team in Auckland to spare a thought for me.”

“No I won’t,” Jack argued. He took his eyes off the road for a moment and gazed at his Welshman. “I’ll miss your coffee, and your sweet kisses when you give me my coffee mug, and your coffee...”

Ianto shot him a death glare. He hadn’t been just ‘the tea boy’ for a couple of years now, but it seemed that his most memorable skill was the way he made Jack’s coffee. “I’ll miss you, anyway. And we’ll be able to call, and Skype while you’re away. Only _please_ , for the love of all that is good in this world, do not send me pictures of your dick on Snapchat,” he begged.

Jack grinned, and parked the car behind a restaurant. “It’s lucky we’re here, because now I have to kiss you, just for that little confession.”

After unbuckling his seatbelt, he leaned over and planted one on Ianto’s lips. Ianto opened his mouth, giving Jack’s tongue access. They kissed for a full minute before the older man’s stomach rumbled, making them both laugh. “I guess that’s our cue to go in.”

Ianto opened the car door. “I guess so.”

Arm in arm, they entered the restaurant.

They ended up sharing a small pizza and then a plate of spaghetti, sitting at a table that was so tiny that their legs touched. A candle had sat in the middle when they arrived, but a waiter removed it when he came with their meals. The restaurant itself was big, with couples and groups coming in for lunch, dressed in formal attire that marked them out as Important People. Ianto fitted right in, with his smart suit and gorgeous red tie that Jack tried to stop looking at.

“It’s been a while since we did something like this,” Jack said suddenly, twirling his fork in the spaghetti.

“Something like what?” Ianto looked up from where he’d been playing with his napkin.

“You know, something romantic.” Jack touched Ianto’s knee under the table.

“That’s true. We haven’t gone on a date since...” Ianto’s throat tightened; he couldn’t swallow. He still wasn’t able to say the words.

“Since Tosh and Owen died,” Jack finished for him. Ianto nodded, and Jack sighed. He didn’t want to think about their comrades’ deaths at a time like this. Not when he’d set it aside to spent it with Ianto. He cleared his throat and asked, “What are we, Ianto? You and me,” he added.

Ianto frowned. _What’s brought_ this _on?_ he wondered. “You want to talk about this _now_?”

Jack had a mouthful of spaghetti, then put down his fork and laid his hands palms up on the table, almost like a shrug. “I’m going away with Gwen for two weeks and I just want to know where we stand.”

“Does that mean you want to put a _label_ on our relationship?”

Jack winced. He hated labels, but he didn’t want to leave Cardiff without either of them knowing if they were together or not. He’d done that last time, when he’d deserted his team to go with the Doctor, and since he’d come back he had to admit that he and Ianto had done couple-like things and had a very active physical relationship, but they hadn’t given a name to it. “Is that too out of character? Would you rather I said, ‘Ianto, I like you lots but I’ve heard good things about New Zealand men and plan to sleep with them all’?”

Ianto gave Jack a small smile. “I’ve always been partial to the term ‘lovers’,” he admitted.

“Me too,” Jack smirked, “but that doesn’t involve feelings or commitment, and I want to commit to you, Ianto.” He couldn’t believe he was saying this; he hadn’t felt this way in a long time. Were his courtship skills rusty? He hoped not.

“Really?” Ianto looked at Jack with wonder. “What about ‘partners’?”

“Hmm,” said Jack. “That implies romance, trust, _and_ sex. I like it. Is that okay with you, _partner_?” he asked, taking Ianto’s hand.

“It’s very okay,” Ianto smiled. “Now when I introduce you to people I don’t have to act awkward and say, ‘He’s my, um, boss.’ I can be smooth and say, ‘He’s my partner.’ I’ll have to break it to my sister sometime, though. She’s begun to suspect there’s someone.”

“That’s fine with me,” Jack smiled. He squeezed Ianto’s hand once, then picked up his fork again.

They had nearly finished the spaghetti when Jack put his loaded fork before Ianto’s lips and looked at his lover - _partner_ \- in expectation.

“Jack, I am not letting you feed me. I am a grown man; I can feed myself,” Ianto glared.

Jack gave him his puppy-eyed look, something he’d picked up from Gwen. He blinked, wobbling his lower lip, and Ianto murmured, “Pathetic,” but opened his mouth anyway. _I can’t deny you anything_ , he thought with disgust.

They fed each other the rest of the spaghetti, getting a few odd looks from the upper class patrons but ignoring them. When they were done, Jack paid the bill and they went back to the hub, Ianto driving this time.

“How was your meal?” Gwen asked, looking up from the file she was reading when they came in.

“Great, thanks,” Jack answered, tugging Ianto’s hand to keep going. “We’ll be in my office, but please don’t disturb us.”

Gwen looked at them with distaste. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, and left them alone.

Jack and Ianto laughed at her discomfort, and slammed the door when they entered the office, already shedding clothes. They then proceeded to have some brilliant goodbye sex on the desk, Jack’s favourite place for it, until Gwen decided that they had been in there for long enough and called Jack’s phone. Jack sighed, gave Ianto a kiss, and helped him up off the desk.

Before long, it was six o’clock, and the three of them ordered in an early dinner.

“The last supper,” Jack announced through a mouthful of salad.

Ianto rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic, partner.”

Gwen’s eyes widened and they all realised what he had said. “Are you two... properly together now? Like _together_ together?”

“Oh, um,” Ianto stammered. He hadn’t meant to let it slip in front of her - it had just come out.

“Yeah, we are.” Jack put his hand on Ianto’s thigh.

Gwen grinned. “That’s so great! It’s taken ages for you to admit you’re a couple.”

“We’re not a couple,” Jack corrected her.

“Hate that word,” Ianto echoed.

"We're partners, end of story."

“Okay, okay,” she agreed quickly, and moved to concentrate on her meal. _They’re partners but not a couple?_ she thought. _Riiight. Only they could be that contrary._

When they’d eaten up, Ianto cleared away the dishes and containers while Gwen and Jack finished off last-minute tasks and turned off their computers. Then the three of them used the invisible lift to get onto the Plass, where their taxi would soon arrive.

A winter breeze caused Ianto to shiver and Gwen to wrap her arms around herself as they waited, the three of them standing in a line with their backs to the water tower. After a few minutes of standing in the cold, the taxi showed up and Jack and Gwen gathered their bags as the three of them made their way over to the cab.

Gwen was first to hug Ianto. “Take care of yourself, and don’t get eaten by a weevil while we aren’t around to save you!”

He laughed, hugging her tight. “Have fun and don’t miss me too much.”

She put her bags in the car and got in the back seat, closing the door to give the two men privacy as they said goodbye. Ianto was soon swept up in Jack’s strong embrace.

“I know it’s just two weeks, but I’m worried about leaving you alone here,” confessed the captain. “Even _I_ can’t save the world singlehandedly, so I hope you won’t have to.”

“I’ll be fine,” Ianto reassured the older man. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have a hot group of seven New Zealanders keeping me busy instead,” Jack replied. “I won’t have time to miss you.”

Ianto shook his head in amusement. “Isn’t that what I was saying earlier?”

The cabdriver tooted his horn, making them jump.

“I’d better get in the car,” Jack said with much reluctance. He leaned in for a passionate kiss, his grip tightening on Ianto. “I’ll see you in two weeks. Goodbye,” he whispered in his partner’s ear. “I love you.”

Ianto wasn’t given much time for those words to sink in, but he smiled. “I love you too, Jack.” He brushed his lips over his partner’s and said, “Now go,” pushing him away.

Jack got into the taxi and blew Ianto a kiss as they drove off, trying to shake off the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. It was only when he and Gwen were set up for the night in their hotel in London and he was undressing for bed that he realised he had left his trench coat behind.

* * *

 

He was still fretting over it when their plane taxied onto the runway. Gwen put her hand on his arm. “Jack, calm down. Ianto will look after it. You can live for two weeks without your goddamn _coat_. And besides, it’s summer over there. You won’t need it.”

“I might,” he pouted.

“It’s just a fucking coat,” she said, trying not to raise her voice.

“It’s my trademark.” Jack bit his lip.

Gwen sighed. “Get over it. You can do without your coat for two weeks. It will be there when we get back.”

When the plane sped up just before take-off, Jack gripped the armrests, and Gwen could see that he was trying to keep his breathing under control. “I wouldn’t take you for a nervous flier,” she commented, a touch of humour in her tone as he glanced at him with amusement.

“It’s just been a long time since I’ve flown, and 21st Century aircraft aren’t as safe or sophisticated as 51st Century aircraft,” he told her. “This is like the equivalent of you carving marks into stone instead of using a pen and paper.”

“Relax, the statistical probability of us crashing is very unlikely.” He glared at her. “Okay,” she said, patting his hand. “Just sit tight, close your eyes, and think of Cardiff.” He kept glaring. “Okay, think of Ianto.”

He held her hand and took a deep breath as the plane took off into the air.

“Up, up, and away,” Gwen smiled.


	4. Up in the Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This plane is just not big enough for the two of us."

Bang!

Jack jumped. The whole cabin shook up and down. Other passengers grumbled but didn’t look too worried, and Gwen was asleep. The wobbling grew in intensity.

Jack’s heart beat fast. This wasn’t a way that he wanted to die, blown up into pieces in the atmosphere. He doubted even he could come back from that, and if he could, it would be an extremely long and painful process. Gwen certainly wouldn’t survive. At least he’d told Ianto he loved him. He gripped the armrests, looking about for the crew - he should inform someone that the plane sounded like it was about to explode at any moment.

He couldn’t see anyone, so he shook Gwen awake. “Gwen!” he hissed. “We’re all going to die!”

For a second her face showed the same level of panic that his did. Then she realised what the rocking sensation was. “Oh, Jack!” she all but cackled. “We’re not going to die - this is pretty normal, actually. Okay, maybe not normal, but common.”

“ _What_ is?”

She was saved from answering as an announcement came over the loudspeaker. “Ladies and gentleman, as we are experiencing some unexpected turbulence, we do ask that you keep your seatbelts fastened for the next ten minutes, until we have passed through it.” The message droned on about weather conditions and how high up they were, but Jack had stopped listening.

“Turbulence? That’s what this is?”

“Yes, Jack. Let me guess, you don’t get that on flights in the 51st Century?”

“Absolutely not!” he huffed. After a minute he had calmed down a bit and his face was more red than white. “I thought we were all going to die,” he said. “I was going to ask for a kiss before we blew up into tiny pieces. That’s embarrassing.”

She laughed, and kissed his cheek. “I haven’t seen this side of you in a while,” she said. “It’s cute.”

He frowned at her. “My getting anxious about a plane-full of people dying is _cute_?”

“No, I mean your getting anxious about something that you needn’t is cute,” she explained.

“But thought we were going to die,” he wailed.

“Shh.” She put her finger over his lips. “Calm down, okay? You don’t need to make a big scene. We’re safe,” she said firmly, like a mother talking to her child.

He nodded, though his eyes were still wide. She patted his arm and chose a movie to watch. “Relax,” she said for the fourth time since they’d boarded the plane, putting in earphones.

Jack kept silent as they rode out the turbulence, and was pleased to see that once the cabin had stopped wobbling, the flight attendants wheeled out food trolleys. One was a very handsome, noble-looking man who looked a little older than Jack did, and his mouth watered. He and Gwen got their meals and as the man passed them, Jack reached out and gave him a light slap on the arse. The flight attendant ignored Jack, but Gwen’s sharp eyes saw everything.

“Jack!” she scolded.  “Behave! You’re acting like a kid today. We should have brought Ianto,” she reflected. “He knows how to keep you in line.”

Jack had the grace to look a little ashamed. Then he released the world’s biggest sigh, gazing down at his plate.  “Are we really expected to eat that?”

“It’s either that or die of starvation,” she shrugged.

“No thanks,” he shuddered. “I’ve been there, done that. It’s not a nice way to go. Now a single bullet, straight to the head or the heart, that’s - Mmph!”

She stuck her hand over his mouth. “Other people can hear you, and I’m sure they don’t need their appetites ruined by this talk of death. Now shut up and eat.”

They were less than halfway to Singapore. This was going to be one long flight.

* * *

 Ianto Jones picked up Jack’s coat and folded it with reverence. Then he had a better idea, and put it on a clothes hanger before hanging it up behind Jack’s desk. He frowned a little, wondering if his partner had meant to leave him a souvenir or not, and immediately decided that there was no way that Jack would leave his coat behind on purpose. That just wasn’t him, so it must have been a mistake.

Ianto sighed. The hub was so empty, not to mention silent, without Jack, without Gwen. If he weren’t careful he would start missing them too soon. Like he missed Tosh and Owen. The difference was that Gwen and Jack were _coming back_ , and he knew exactly when and how.

He had just started to make himself a coffee when the Rift alert sounded. Muttering to himself, he went to see what had fallen through the Rift this time, what had interrupted his coffee break. A blowfish. He grabbed one gun, then another for good measure, and programmed the GPS to lead him to the whereabouts of the alien before leaving the hub and jumping into the SUV.

* * *

“I wonder what Ianto’s doing right now,” Jack said, out of the blue.

“What he won’t be doing is thinking about you as often as you’re thinking about him,” Gwen grumbled. She hadn’t managed to get much sleep in the past twelve hours, mostly due to Jack’s childish behaviour. “He has a life, you know, and he could be out socialising with his friends for all we know. I just hope he doesn’t bump into Rhys, because that would be awkward to explain.”

“Right, because you told your husband that all three of us were going, since he seems to think I can't keep my hands to myself,” Jack replied.

 “There is a strong foundation for that belief,” she told him.

“Hm. Speaking of hands, I met a lovely droid once who had this trick where she-”

“Lalala, I’m not listening!” _If he can be childish, then so can I. I don’t want to know about what the droid did with her hands,_ thought Gwen. _I don’t even really know what a droid is. Is it just another name for a robot? And what the hell is the difference between a droid and an android?_

“-could balance wine glasses on the back of her hands,” he finished. At Gwen’s astonished look he said, “What, did you think I was going to say something dirty? Get your mind out of the gutter, Gwen Cooper,” he sniggered.

“That’s hard to do, when you’re around,” she mumbled, and picked up a magazine.

Jack grabbed her handbag and went through it, wondering what else she had hidden away in there. A romance novel, her tablet, her phone, sunglasses, a make-up bag, purse, pen, packet of duty-free sweets, a lipstick case, earphones and earplugs, and a sleeping mask to block out the light for when she wanted to nap in flight. She was extremely well-prepared, he noted with pride. He took the romance novel and got forty pages in before he had to put it down because he was laughing too hard.

When she shot him a questioning glance, he said, “You actually read crap like this? I’ve read better porn on -”

“Stop right there,” she hissed. “I’m so glad that we’ll be landing soon,” she said. “This plane is just not big enough for the two of us.” Sure enough, the plane was descending, getting ready to land for their stopover.

“Are we nearly there?” asked Jack, his face lighting up in excitement.

“We’re nearly in Singapore, yes.”

“Oh.” The excitement left as quickly as it had arrived. “This is the longest flight I’ve been on since landing on Earth,” he grumbled.

“This is the longest flight I’ve ever been on at all,” she echoed under her breath.

They had two hours to themselves when they landed in Singapore. Gwen wanted to go shopping, but Jack discouraged her, saying that she could do that on the way back, and besides, he wanted to go on the Singapore Flyer.

“Look at all that beauty,” Jack said from 165 metres above the ground.

The sea shimmered down below and the sky was high above, out of reach, but it felt like they were so much closer to it than they would be on flat land, like if Jack could just reach out his arms far enough he could be amongst it. Birds flew underneath them, small white dots with a background of deep blue.

“It’s a fantastic view,” Gwen agreed. “And a lovely day for it.”

“This is what we fight for,” he gestured at the whole world with his arms. “We protect the Earth so that normal, everyday people can appreciate its beauty, so that they can see its wonders. That’s why we, Torchwood, have to go through all the shit, losing the ones we love, to keep everyone else alive.”

His face was saddened, blue eyes drooping, and she could see that he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and had been doing it for many years. This wasn’t new to her, but it was a surprise that this pleasant ride had turned so serious.

She took his hand and squeezed it. “But it’s worth it in the end, isn’t it?” she asked, looking at his face with big dark eyes.

She asked both for her and for him - she needed to know that it was worth it, and she believed he needed to be reminded of that. It sounded like a simple question, but it wasn’t, because if it weren’t worth it, what the hell were they doing there? She may as well go home to Rhys, lose her memories of Torchwood to Retcon, get her old job back, and have the baby she’d always dreamt of. And Jack may as well find his Doctor and go back to his old life, forget about her and Ianto and Toshiko and Owen and everyone before that. If it weren’t worth it, what was the fucking _point_ of Torchwood?

He squeezed her hand in return and gave her a sad smile, but shifted so that he avoided meeting her eyes. “I ask myself the same thing every day. We don’t get thanked, and we have no-one to protect _us_. We just do what we can. How do we tell if it is worth it?”

He didn’t give her the answer she was looking for, and she had nothing to say to that. They avoided the subject for the rest of their stop in Singapore.

Later, when their plane was about to take off for their final destination, he spoke. “Yeah.” It came out sounding hoarse, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Yeah,” he said, looking at her in earnest. “It’s worth it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...  
> And please, if there are any typos, point them out! I can't stand having typos in my writing.


	5. Many Meetings

Jack was much better behaved on the last part of the journey, the flight from Singapore to New Zealand. He kept his hands to himself and remained quiet, taking his trusty companion’s advice and choosing a few movies to watch. One that he decided to watch to educate himself on Kiwis - or at least their films - was _What We Do in the Shadows,_ a vampire documentary which he took seriously until the werewolf leader said, “Werewolves not swearwolves.” Then Jack realised that it was a comedy, what was known as a _mockumentary_ , and felt very stupid, which consequently made him uncomfortable. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t bother to learn about every little craze that went on on this planet, or that his sense of humour was rather different to that of the film’s native 21st Century target audience.

The food was still awful and the other passengers either too noisy or too quiet for comfort, and he still longed for his coat. With his coat came his confidence, and right now he was on the opposite side of the world to his coat. He was on the opposite side of the world to his home. Speaking of which, he wondered what Ianto was up to at the moment. He had no concept of time at the moment, what with the chaos of crossing over time zones and in effect going forwards in time. He didn’t even know what time it would be when they landed at the airport in Auckland, but remembered that the leader of Torchwood Four was making sure that they would get picked up. So it didn’t matter anyway, he guessed.

To his great surprise, he yawned. Exhaustion had crept up on him, hitting when he least expected it. He hadn’t had a shut-eye since getting up from his hotel bed in London, however long ago that was. Yawning again, he made up his mind and let his eyelids close.

Gwen watched this with a smile. She had slept away some duration of the flight and therefore didn’t know what he’d been up to while she dozed, but she suspected that he hadn’t slept until now. Even the immortal captain needed rest, especially on a draining trip across the world. With maternal care, she laid an airline blanket over him and put back his headrest. “Sleep tight,” she whispered.

* * *

Ianto had never enjoyed going out in the field, mostly because when he was in danger he just got scared, instead of excited. But it was up to him to stop this blowfish. He had no choice.

Armed with his two guns, he gave chase to the alien, cornering it between a concrete wall and dead-end street. His heart beat increased as he approached the blowfish, and he shouted, “Give it up! It’s over!”

“And what are you going to do?” taunted the alien. “You’re just one man without your team. Are they supposed to come and back you up? Because right now you don’t look very threatening. What can one man do against me?”

The blowfish did a 180 and ran to the nearest house, smashed the windows, and disappeared inside. Ianto gave chase and found the alien holding a family of three at gunpoint.

“Put down the guns, or I shoot!” declared the blowfish, giving what sounded awfully like an ultimatum.

The wide, innocent eyes of a couple and their teenage son pleaded Ianto to do something, and instead of putting down his guns, he put one in his belt and lifted the other one, cocking it and aiming right at the alien’s head.

The blowfish looked delighted. “Can you do it?” he asked. “Can you kill me before I kill them? Do you have a strong trigger finger and accurate aim? What if I pull the trigger first? Are you fast enough?”

_Bang!_

The alien slumped to the ground. Ianto blew the smoke off the end of his gun and put the safety back on before turning to the family.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “Guys like these must be dealt with with violence. It’s kill or be killed, I’m afraid. Let me make you some hot drinks to make up for disturbing you like this. Where’s the kitchen?”

Still looking shell-shocked, as was expected since an identifiable _thing_ had burst into their house via their lounge window and nearly killed them, followed by a handsome young man with not just one but two guns who had killed the thing, the couple pointed to the kitchen. Ianto set to making them some tea, and slipped in a little Retcon to mask their memories of the last five minutes. He gave the couple and their teenager a cup each and said, “I’ll just arrange for the window to be fixed.”

He got out his phone and called a window glazier. Then he put his phone away. “Well, my work here is done. Have a good evening!”

The family still hadn’t said a word, staring at him dumbly. He wasn’t worried though - shock was the usual reaction in a situation like this, and anyway, they would soon forget about him and the blowfish. He dragged the alien corpse with him, going out through the front door this time, and put it in the back of the SUV.

Back at the hub he dumped the corpse on the autopsy table. He’d begun emptying the blowfish’s pockets, finding a pack of cigarettes and an empty hip flask, when he spotted a trail of blood running up his left wrist. He looked at his hand and saw a small bit glass embedded in his palm. He must have put his hand on a broken bit of window when following the blowfish into the house earlier and driving had probably pushing the shard in deeper. Now that he’d noticed the injury, it hurt quite a bit. Some more blood trickled out of the wound, and while he could grab some tweezers and bandage, he didn’t want to get an infection. Besides, if either Gwen or Jack were here they would tell him to look after himself and get it checked out. Sighing, he left the hub again and drove himself to A&E.

* * *

“Jack,” Gwen hissed. “Jack! We’re about to land.”

“Hmph?” Jack opened his eyes and stretched. Then he took in what she’d said, and grinned. “Really? Great, it’s about time.” This flight had gone on for long enough. The ground beneath his feet and a new city to explore was an exciting prospect, and he told her so.

“Are you sure we’ll even have time to explore? This is a business trip, remember,” she reminded him.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “but I’m sure there’ll be aliens to catch, just like at home, and we can use our expertise to help.” When he caught her staring at him with an unusual expression on her face, he said, “What?”

“Nothing,” she replied hurriedly. But then she said, “Except that I’ve never heard you call Cardiff home.”

“That’s because I’ve only come to think of it as home very recently. About the same time that I realised I loved Ianto in a different way than I loved you and Toshiko and Owen.”

It was surprisingly easy to meet her eyes, but then she had to know that he had loved them all. He wondered when he would stop thinking about Tosh and Owen every day, wondered when he would stop thinking about them at all. Perhaps it would happen if they got new team members - when they had all settled in. The thought of replacing them cut deep, as did the memory of how they had died, Owen not even knowing that Tosh lay there dying as she helped him to stop a nuclear meltdown. He hadn’t been there – he had arrived too late – but he and Ianto had watched the CCTV footage to fill in the gaps.

“When was that?” Gwen interrupted his melancholy thoughts.

A wry grin spread on his face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he replied. It was said in good humour, but it was his way of stopping the conversation from heading in that direction. He was good at that. Too good, sometimes, as it cut off conversations without giving a new subject to talk about. He often regretted it, but it was a coping mechanism, he supposed. He couldn’t just break a habit that had been with him for so long, possibly ever since he had jointed the Time Agency.

It worked now, and Gwen turned her head back to the front of the plane. The runway was visible now, so Jack braced himself for the impact of landing. He wasn’t kidding when he said that 51st Century aircraft was much more sophisticated; the technology of the time that he was stuck in was so primitive it was often scary. The pilot lowered the plane onto the ground and they soon came to a stop on the tarmac. Jack exhaled - they had survived the journey.

The airport was just like any other, albeit smaller. They got their bags from the luggage carousel, then looked for someone who might have arrived to pick them up.

“Jack!” Gwen nudged his arm, then pointed. At the end of her finger was a woman dressed in a navy blue dress and white blazer, holding a sign. The sign read _Torchwood._

They went over to the woman, who put down the sign and smiled at them. She had auburn hair cut in a bob whose longest strands were level with her chin. “Clea Grey,” she introduced herself, sticking out her hand.

“Claire?”

“Clea.”

“Captain Jack Harkness,” Jack grinned his trademark cheesy grin, shaking her hand.

When he let go, his companion took Clea’s hand. “Gwen Cooper. Pleasure to meet you.”

Clea smiled at them. “The pleasure’s all mine. How was your flight?”

It would be lying to say that the flight had been fine, but it wasn’t customary to say so. Gwen settled for “Good.”

Clea nodded, and began leading them outside. They were greeted by broad daylight and a blue sky. She told them that the weather was particularly nice today, even for summer. “Am I right in thinking that there are three of you?” she asked. “Where’s the other one?”

“He stayed behind to monitor the Rift,” Jack supplied.

“The Rift?” Clea repeated with raised eyebrows, and it was obvious that she had no idea what it was.

“I can see that we already have plenty to talk about,” said Jack.

“Oh?” said Clea. Her tone was friendly, not at all like the formal business-type woman both Jack and Gwen had been expecting. He wasn’t sure about Gwen, but he’d been expecting someone like Yvonne Hartman, and was taken aback by Clea Grey’s more relaxed demeanour.

“Well, it’s lucky we have plenty of time. So,” she said breezily when they reached a Mazda that matched her hair colour, “would you like to go straight to your hotel or do you want to come in to meet everyone and see where we operate?” She unlocked the car and popped the boot open for their bags to go in.

“There’s no time like present,” Jack said with decisiveness, hoisting his and Gwen’s suitcases into the back of the car. “Why don’t we go and meet the team?”

“Alright!” Clea grinned, stressing the last syllable. There was an aura of innocence about her, and even though she was the director of Torchwood Four, a leader and a boss, and thirty five years old, she seemed younger than even Ianto. She hadn’t seen the things that Jack’s team had seen. “Get in,” she ordered.

Jack hogged the passenger seat, leaving Gwen to sit in the back. “So,” she asked as she put her seatbelt on, “what part of the city are you based in?”

* * *

 When Ianto’s hand had been stitched up and he’d picked up the prescribed antibiotics, he drove back to the hub. It was easier to steer now that he didn’t have a piece of glass lodged inside his hand and could steer pretty well, although using the gearstick hurt like hell. When he got back to base, the exhaustion of the day hit him, and he settled down to sleep in Jack’s bunker. He held Jack’s coat and he could almost pretend that the shape and scent of the coat was Jack himself. As he drifted off, he decided that tomorrow would be better. He would get all paperwork done, maybe even the budget. And he wouldn’t go out chasing aliens.

His last thought before sleep claimed him was that he hoped Jack and Gwen were at least having fun without him.

* * *

“Our headquarters is in the City Centre, all one and a half floors of it. We’re in a building right beside Queen Elizabeth Square, almost directly opposite Britomart, which is the major train station, and extremely close to the ferry terminal,” said Clea, turning on the engine and backing out of the airport car park. “It’s a pretty handy location, right in town, and it’s easy enough to get onto the motorway if we need to get to the North Shore, or South Auckland. Plus we’re on Queen Street, so there are plenty of shopping opportunities when we’re on lunch breaks.” She laughed at that, making it sound like their jobs were all completely normal and mundane.

Her laugh was contagious, and Gwen and Jack found themselves smiling too. For just that moment, it was as if their jobs weren’t about catching aliens and they were just normal people, but the moment was ruined as Clea continued. “We have half a floor for offices and the whole basement level for our archives and holding cells. Unfortunately there is a definite office feel about that place, which is strange since we obviously don’t do your average office work, but we didn’t have much choice.”

“How long have you been there?” Jack enquired, watching as Clea turned onto a street and headed away from the airport and into what he guessed was the city of Auckland.

“A little over two years. We used to be based in Christchurch, but I moved the four of us up here after the earthquakes in February 2011.”

“Oh,” said Gwen. “Were you much affected by the earthquakes?”

There was a pause. “Yeah,” Clea said at last. “Our infrastructure was badly damaged. We also lost some members of the team, driving our leader to suicide.” Her voice wavered.

Gwen was horrified. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to –”

“No, that’s okay. It’s part of our history. It’s recent, but it’s how we ended up here,” Clea shrugged. Her serious blue eyes met Gwen’s sorrowful dark ones in the mirror. “We don’t forget what we lost that day, but it’s shaped us, and we’ve come together as a team, stronger than before, and then we got some new members. We’re family now; we weren’t before.”

“You’re not alone there,” Jack contributed. At Clea’s questioning glance he said, “We recently lost two members of our team, so we understand. You have to grieve, and move on, and get on with things, and while it’s so, so difficult, it is possible.”

“Yeah.” A wobbly smile formed on her lips.

Jack turned to exchange a look with Gwen. It seemed that the Torchwood Auckland director had yet to completely move on, and Jack understood only too well. To not only lose a leader but to lose him - or her, he wasn’t sure which - to suicide hurt even more.

“I’ve known you for less than half an hour,” he said, “but from what you've said I can tell that you’re a strong woman, Clea Grey, to take charge and take control of your team. I’m sure your old leader would be proud.”

Clea’s smile was genuine this time. “Thank you, Cap-”

“Just Jack is fine, Ms Grey,” he grinned.

“Only if you call me Clea,” she shot back. “I hate the word ‘Ms’; it makes me feel old.”

“Alright, _Clea_.” There was more than a trace of flirtation in his tone.

Gwen cleared her throat. “Do you mind if I make a quick phone call? I’d like to tell my husband that we’ve arrived safely.”

“Go ahead.”

The Welshwoman dug out her phone and called Rhys, telling him that she was safely in New Zealand. When he said that he missed her already, she replied that she missed him too, causing Jack to roll his eyes. Gwen pulled the phone away from her ear and said, “I bet you miss Ianto already! Hypocrite.” She carried on talking to her husband for a few more minutes, but made sure to hang up before they got in a “You hang up”/ “No you hang up” cycle.

“Guess that’s my cue to call my man,” Jack said when Gwen stopped chattering.

“I knew it!” she crowed. “You do miss him!”

Jack shrugged. “What can I say, I miss his voice.”

“His voice or his body?” she challenged.

He reached behind his seat to pinch her, and she squealed.

“Kids, behave,” Clea said. “Is this what you’re normally like?” she asked Gwen.

“Me teasing him about his sex life? Yep, pretty much.”

Jack sighed, and dialled Ianto’s number, tuning out Gwen and Clea’s conversation.

* * *

The sound of his phone ringing woke Ianto from his slumber. Groaning, he fell out of bed in an attempt to get the phone. He answered it with a sleepy “Hello?”

“Ianto!” came Jack’s cheery voice. “How’s it going?”

“I was sleeping,” he groaned. “You woke me up.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Jack didn’t sound very apologetic. “I’m just calling to tell you that Gwen and I are in Auckland and are on our way to meet the Torchwood Four team.”

“Wonderful. You woke me up for _that_?”

“You sound like Owen when we, you know.” There was a pause from the other side of the line. “Also I wanted to hear your beautiful Welsh vowels.”

“I can hear Gwen’s Welsh vowels in the background,” Ianto grumbled. Then, seeing that he wasn’t coming across as friendly or loving, he sighed. “Sorry if I’m being grumpy. I’m tired and it was a long day and it’s the middle of the night.”

“I get it. You go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you, babe.”

“Babe?” The disbelief in Ianto’s tone was evident.

“Sorry, sweetcheeks.” Ianto remained silent. “Darling? Honey? My love?”

Ianto laughed at that one. “You don’t need a pet name for me, Jack. I like it when you say my name.”

“Okay, _Ianto_ ,” Jack breathed. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, cariad.”

“I’ll call you soon.”

“Okay, but not when I’m sleeping,” Ianto said with determination.

“I’ll try. Love you.”

“Bye.” Ianto couldn’t keep the fondness out of his voice, and allowed himself a smile as he put the phone away. Jack always knew how to put a smile on Ianto’s face, even when he was grumpy. He settled back under the covers and held Jack’s coat close. When sleep took him, he welcomed it, and had a good long rest until the morning.

* * *

 “ _Sweetcheeks_?” Gwen teased when Jack got off the phone.

“Shut up,” he growled.

She giggled. “I bet his cheeks are sweet, though.”

“Oh, they are. Extremely,” he couldn’t help himself saying. “Sweet and smooth, especially-”

“Too much information!” she interrupted, but her sternness was overwhelmed by her giggles.

“You guys are very close, aren’t you?” Clea observed.

“What, me and Gwen? Yeah, you could say that.”

“How long have you know each other?”

“I started working for Torchwood a year and a half ago,” Gwen told her. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

“And I never thank you for it,” Jack said. _Why not?_ he asked himself. “Thank you, Gwen Cooper.”

She nodded, although he couldn’t see that as he was looking straight ahead, watching the road even though Clea was the one driving. “It’s my job, but…you’re welcome, Jack Harkness.”

It took them a while to get into town, but eventually Clea pulled up in a car park adjacent to a tall, square-shaped building and announced, “Here we are. Let’s go in.”

Jack and Gwen got out of the car and followed her to a set of automatic doors, which let them in without so much as asking for a security code. Clea led them in through a reception-type room and stopped in front of a heavy wooden door to slide a card through the scanner before opening it for them. A corridor stretched before them, which they walked down to the end, where there was a lift. Clea swiped her card again and the lift doors opened. “After you,” she said. When they were all inside, she pressed the _3_ button and the lift took them up a few floors. Gwen and Jack followed her strides to a set of glass doors which opened when she pushed a black knob on the wall.

“Welcome to our humble abode,” Clea joked as they took it in.

There were five desks spread around the whole floor, three of them occupied. A glass wall separated what looked like a clinic from the rest of the room, and Jack noticed that there were two men inside it. He and Gwen hung back a bit, but Clea gestured at them to come in. She went to the first desk on the left, and made them follow her. A brown-skinned woman looked up from her computer and eyed the three of them with little interest, obviously not grateful for the interruption.

“Leila,” Clea enthused, “this is Jack Harkness and Gwen Cooper from Torchwood Cardiff. Guys, this is Leilani Finau, our secretary.”

“Nice to meet you,” Leila said in a clumsy sort of accent. She looked about forty, older than most Torchwood agents back in the UK. “I would shake your hands but I’m on the phone.” And indeed, she held a small white receiver a small distance away from her ear.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Leilani,” said Jack.

“Oh, just Leila is fine,” she replied.

“Good to meet you, Leila,” Gwen smiled.

Clea moved on to the next desk, which was empty. “Calandria, our police liaison and technical backup, is off sick with hay fever today.”

She moved on to the next, where a dark-haired man with just the right amount of facial hair tapped away on a calculator. “This is James Robinson. He does all our finance stuff. Jim, meet Jack Harkness and Gwen Cooper from Torchwood Cardiff.”

The man gave a tight smile. “Hi there,” he said, and his accent nearly made Jack’s knees wobble.

“Well, hello,” replied the captain with raised eyebrows. Gwen gave Jack an unsubtle nudge and James a nod.

Clea moved on to the clinic, knocking on the glass. The two men inside sprang up and let her and the others in, guilt written on their faces. “Meet Jack and Gwen from Torchwood Cardiff. This,” Clea pointed at the taller man who had golden hair and golden skin, “is Urbano Costa.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said with a smile that showed his perfect teeth, and Gwen thought she could pick up a South African accent. The smile had an effect on both her and her boss.

Jack whistled. “You are gorgeous. Ooh, did I just say that out loud?” He laughed, and stuck out his hand. “Captain Jack Harkness. Pleased to meet you.”

Urbano eyed him up appreciatively, and shook his hand. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

Clea pointed to the other man, a more blokey sort whose lack of height he made up for with the obvious muscles on his arms. “This is Andrew Redmond, although we call him Red. We had four Andrews, so we had to give them nicknames,” she explained.

“Hi,” Red nodded.

“Hi,” Jack and Gwen replied.

“These two lovely men are our doctors. We don’t need both of them, so you should recruit one, eh?” Coming to stand in between Urbano and Red, she slapped them both on the back.

The five of them talked medical for a few minutes before Clea stopped the chatter and moved them out of the clinic and to another desk. Sitting at the desk and focussing hard on a screen sat a woman with long black hair tied in a low ponytail. She turned around as Clea cleared her throat, and Gwen and Jack froze. They had to physically stop themselves from saying a particular name, but it was in both of their heads.

_...Toshiko?_


	6. A Familiar Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has taken a while to post since I’m back at school now. Updates are going to be far less frequent, I’m afraid. :(   
> PS. If you have any requests for things you would like to see (eg. events, aliens, conversations, etc) just let me know!

Clea continued with the introductions, although she had lost her audience. Gwen and Jack were barely listening, just staring. “Mei Sato is our technical expert.”

“Texpert,” Mei corrected her boss. She turned to the visitors and at once noticed their expressions. “Is everything okay?” Even her accent was the same - she just had longer hair and looked a little older.

“You look so much like her…” Gwen murmured. “Sorry, what’s your name again?”

The Japanese woman looked confused, and so did Clea. “Mei Sato.”

Jack started at that. “I don’t suppose you’re related to Toshiko Sato?” he demanded.

“She’s my cousin. Why, do you know her?” Mei’s expression changed from confusion to hope.

“She worked for us for five years, in Cardiff.” Jack didn’t offer any more information, causing Mei to ask more questions.

“I’ve always wondered where she disappeared to. We were close growing up, in London, but I haven’t seen or heard from her in years. Cardiff, wow - I didn’t expect her to end up there. Do you know where she is now?” She seemed like a bubbly, happy person, and there was such hope in the way she asked it that Jack despised himself for having to tell the truth.

“She’s dead,” he whispered, and closed his eyes for a moment.

She clapped her hand over her mouth, dark eyes growing wide. “Oh god,” she whispered to herself. “Little Toshi…”

Jack swallowed, and Gwen put her hand on his shoulder. Telling people a loved one had died was the shittiest part of being a policewoman, and she’d had to do it for Torchwood too, so she knew exactly how he felt. There was nothing about being the bearer of bad news that was not terrible.

Mei got up from her chair and rushed towards the clinic. Gwen raised her eyebrows when she watched as the two doctors immediately came and hugged her. Apparently she was close to Red and Urbano.

“Oh dear,” said Clea. “I hope she’s okay.”

“Yeah.” Gwen shook her head in sympathy. Her face was pale still from the shock of seeing Toshiko’s lookalike. “That’s a horrible way to find out that a family member is dead, after not seeing her for years.” She bit her lip, and looked away from the clinic when Jack touched her shoulder, drawing her away from Mei’s desk and following Clea to hers, which was covered in papers and coffee mugs.

Clea sat down in her chair, but faced Jack and Gwen. “That’s... unfortunate,” she said, a gross understatement. Her fingers were laden with rings, although it was unusual for a Torchwood employee to wear excessive jewellery, Jack thought, and she brought attention to the fact by fiddling with and twisting them. “You said you lost two team members recently... was Mei’s cousin one of them?”

Jack nodded, and had to clear his throat before he could answer. “She was.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. And hers,” she jerked her head in the direction of the clinic, where Mei was being comforted by the two men.

“Thank you,” Gwen replied.

Clea nodded solemnly. Then, plastering a cheerier smile on her face, she changed the subject. “So, now that you’ve seen our office, would you like to see the basement?”

Jack and Gwen agreed, so Clea led them out of the office area and into the lift, where she pressed the _S_ button which was directly under the _G_ button. “ _S_ for sublevel,” she explained when she noticed their frowns. “But everyone calls it the basement.”

They stepped out of the lift and into a dimly lit room. “These are our archives. It’s amazing how many old documents are original, considering what they’ve been through. We have a whole section that came all the way from Belfast to New Zealand a hundred years ago.”

“Really?” Jack couldn’t help thinking of a certain someone who might be interested in seeing these hundred-old documents. “Do you have digital copies?”

“Mei and I are still converting some of them, but the majority are available to access digitally on our database. It’s a long process,” she sighed.

Gwen butted in before he could ask if Ianto could access them at home. “Can you tell us something, because I think we’re both dying to know, how and why Torchwood Four moved from Northern Ireland to New Zealand? And why it was labelled ‘missing’ for so long?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Clea smiled, and Gwen was taken aback. She’d been expecting it to be a secret or something, but it was obvious that the director of Torchwood Four had been waiting for the questions.

“As you know, Torchwood Four was originally in Belfast. There was a small team there, and when they got reports of alien activity in America - Boston, I think it was - they went to investigate. In 1912 there was only one way to cross the Atlantic, and guess what the name of that ship was.”

“ _Titanic_?” Gwen guessed.

“Yep,” said Clea. “After that there was only the director left, a Mr Murphy, who had stayed behind. Of course some of the team may have survived, but if they did he never knew about it. None came home so he assumed the worst. He heard of alien sightings in Christchurch, packed his bags, and got the next boat across the world. He set up a new base in the City Centre and eventually managed to get a team together. It was never a big branch like Torchwood One though,” she added. “World War I and II and the Vietnam War meant it was hard for the government to find funding for us and it was hard for us to find suitable employees, what with all the able men going to fight and that. But I’m guessing that was the same for you in Cardiff?”

Jack was tempted to reply, “Oh yes, it was very hard. It was even harder being one of the soldiers,” but knew that that would earn him either a frown or a cry of “What _are_ you?” so he settled for, “Yes, it was.”

“So that’s how we ended up in New Zealand,” Clea finished.

“That’s a nice little story,” Gwen said with a frown, “but that doesn’t explain why you were ‘missing’.”

“I like how you’re asking for all the details, Sherlock,” the New Zealand woman complimented the Welsh. “What was your job before joining Torchwood?”

“I was a police officer.”

“Right, makes sense. Well, Murphy was a bit sneaky about leaving Northern Ireland, and he neglected to tell anyone higher up that he was moving. We only recently found out that Torchwood was set up by Queen Victoria thanks to him hiding the evidence, intentionally or not, but from what we gather, when Belfast wasn’t heard from in a while some people were sent from Britain to investigate.”

Jack failed to mention that he was one of those people. Instead he remained silent, wanting to hear the story from Clea’s rose-coloured lips.

“They must have seen the empty headquarters and lack of equipment and deduced that Murphy had disappeared. But they couldn’t track him down, which I assume is why they described Torchwood Four as missing.” She paused to take a breath.

“Time went on, others took over, and none of us knew that we weren’t the only ones. We weren’t ‘Torchwood Four’ or ‘Torchwood Christchurch or Auckland’; we were just ‘Torchwood’. Then a month ago Callie found an old report about a meeting in 1911 where the directors of all the branches were present. We found other documents that mentioned other branches, and put the pieces together. A bit of searching on my part and I realised that we weren’t alone - there were two other branches in the UK.”

Jack nodded, seeing how everything made sense. “Then what? How did you come to contact us?”

“I dug deep and found email addresses for the Cardiff and Glasgow branches, wrote to tell you about our presence and my desire to liaise. Late the next night, you called me,” Clea finished.

“Wow,” said Gwen.

“Wow,” agreed Clea. “You can probably understand how relieved I was to discover that you guys existed. We believed that we were the only alien-catching organisation in the world, and then we found that that wasn’t the case…”

“Makes sense. It gets lonely, being the only ones out there,” Jack replied. “With Torchwood One down and Two run by just one guy, I thought we were practically alone too. By the way, Archie, the director of the Glasgow branch, is a bit weird. I wouldn’t expect to hear back from him.”

“Oh, okay. That settles that then. So there are what, eleven people in the world who are part of Torchwood?”

“Yep,” Jack answered. “Eleven unlucky but necessary souls.”

Clea and Gwen agreed. Torchwood was probably the most difficult and straining job on the planet, what with the things they saw and the aliens they fought. It was certainly no average desk job, putting their lives at risk so often. They got a lot of exercise though, Jack supposed. None of his team had ever had to join the gym.

“But it can be fun sometimes,” Gwen supposed.

Clea allowed herself a smile. “You betcha.”

Jack asked, “What do you and your team do to cope with it all?” His head tilted slightly to the side as he waited for her answer; it was no casual question.

Clea sighed. “It’s a shitty job; I’m glad you understand that. Leila has her children and her husband and her church – she has family and religion, which is strange for Torchwood, eh? Urbano, Red, and Mei have each other. I don’t know Jim that well – none of us do, really, as he’s not the social type – but I think he’s into gaming. Callie and I do therapeutic shopping when that helps; alcohol when it gets really bad. You just find something to help you through it all, don’t you?”

It wasn’t clear whether she was asking them or herself, but Jack answered anyway. “That’s right.”

“What about you and yours?” she asked.

Jack ran his hand through his hair. “I guess we all have a partner who understands,” he said after a pause.

“I have Rhys, you have Ianto, and Ianto has you, right?” Gwen piped up. “I guess we’re all into our men.”

Jack smirked, but didn’t correct her. She knew perfectly well that he was omnisexual and that he was the only man Ianto was “into”. But Clea Grey didn’t have to know _everything_ about their personal lives. This visit was strictly professional.

“Oh, so the man you called in the car, your partner, is also Torchwood?” Clea enquired. Jack nodded, making her smile. “That’s sweet.”

Gwen chose that moment to yawn. “I think the jet lag will hit soon. Is there anything else important that we need to see now?” She didn’t like to be rude and interrupt, but she could tell by glancing at Jack, who was blinking in an effort not to fall asleep on his feet, that naps were in order.

Clea cleared her throat, a little startled by the sudden change in subject. “I can show you the holding cells tomorrow, since they don’t need your immediate attention. Although we have one creature that we’ve never heard of before, so I’d love for you to have a look then and see if you recognise it. In the meantime, you look pretty exhausted - should I call you a cab?”

It was Jack who yawned this time. “That would be fantastic. Thank you.”

“No problem. Let’s go up a few floors first though - mobile networks don’t work down here.”

Clea called them a taxi and went outside with them to wait. When it pulled up by the curb Jack jumped in the passenger seat - again - leaving Gwen the backseat - again.

“It was good meeting you, Clea,” Jack said, fastening his seatbelt.

“And you. If you come in to reception tomorrow morning and ask for me they’ll give me a call to go and let you in.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow.”

“See ya.” She waved them off.

When they got to the Ibis Hotel in Ellerslie they were assigned adjoining rooms that had a door connecting them. Jack and Gwen threw their bags down and collapsed on their respective beds in their separate rooms, Gwen kicking off her shoes and getting under the covers as she fully intended to nap until dinner, Jack falling asleep before he could even get properly in the bed. Neither woke up in time for dinner at the hotel restaurant.

It had been a long day. And it was only early afternoon.


	7. Four Seasons in One Day

Jack’s sleep was disturbed when he heard the sound of rain hitting the window. That was strange – he could have sworn it was sunny just moments earlier. Rubbing at his eyes, he got up off the bed and went over to the window. Outside it was almost dark, but when he checked the time he saw that it was nine in the evening, so why wasn’t it completely dark yet? He then checked the date and remembered that it was summer here, so it must also get darker later. _Makes sense_ , he thought, drawing the curtains.

He’d slept for nearly eight hours, and he had a renewed energy that made him restless. He hopped in the shower, making the most of the free soap and shampoo, but instead of relaxing him it made him more awake, and he threw on some clothes before barging into the next room.

“Gwen!” he called as he entered. Then he noticed her motionless form snoring under the covers, fast asleep. “Sorry,” he hissed, and retraced his steps. He shut the door as quietly as he could, sighing with boredom. He needed something to do – preferably Ianto, but that wasn’t possible and it wouldn’t be for just under two weeks. He would have to find something else to do.

He laid back on the bed and picked up a menu, selecting a meal to order from room service. Poached eggs were an acceptable choice, he thought, considering that it felt like morning to him. As he waited for room service to come, he picked up a remote control and turned on the TV, thinking that there wouldn’t be anything good on at this time of day, but he was mistaken when he found that there were several movies on. Examining his clothes, he saw that they weren’t the sort of thing to laze about in, so he changed into pyjamas before getting into bed and getting comfortable, settling down to watch _The Great Gatsby_. He didn’t even invite the room service attendant to stay and watch it with him.

* * *

 

Ianto spent the day doing paperwork, just as he’d planned, the Rift silent and therefore letting him have a peaceful day inside the hub. As the evening arrived he felt like it had been a productive day and, after checking the Rift predictor, locked up and went home for the night. He made himself macaroni cheese for dinner and sat down on the couch to eat it, turning on the TV to watch the news. There were no suspicious news stories, so he showered, turned on his electric blanket, and got into bed with a book. After about an hour he got bored, so he sent a quick text to Jack, and snuggled under the covers with his phone, playing a game as he waited for a reply.

* * *

 

Jack was snoozing, not really asleep but not completely awake either, when his phone beeped. He opened his eyes and turned off the TV, which had been on all night, and checked the time on his phone – a quarter past ten – before sitting up and reading the text from Ianto.

_Quiet day here. How’s it going in the land of sheep?_

He smiled at that. Clea had informed him and Gwen on the drive from the airport yesterday that New Zealand’s sheep population outnumbered the human population by more than seven times, but that they shouldn’t expect to see any of these sheep unless they went walking up some of the volcanoes, since they were in the city. He typed a reply: _Jetlagged. Met the team yesterday, including tosh’s cousin._

His partner’s one word reply came through seconds later: _What!_

_She looks just like her it’s scary. Thought I was hallucinating. Small world?_

_What are the odds of two cousins working for torchwood on separate sides of the planet?_

_It’s weird. I guess they both have brilliant technical knowledge that is essential to torchwood. I had to tell her that tosh is dead._

_L_ _How did she take it?_

_Pretty well, considering. She hadn’t seen her in years. The two doctors here comforted her – I think they’re close._

_Close like you, me and gwen?_

_I don’t know. Could be friends or something more, but it’s not really my business._

_Right. How is gwen?_

_Good question. Haven’t seen her since we got to the hotel yesterday afternoon. Should go and check on her._

_What time is it now? Aren’t you bored of having no company?_

_Aren’t you? It’s 10:30am. I’m getting up now. Talk later x_

_Good night x_

Jack yawned and put down his phone, getting out of bed. He got dressed, then padded over to the door that connected his room to Gwen’s, giving it a gentle knock this time. Gwen opened the door and smiled. “Morning, Jack. How was your sleep?”

He groaned. “I slept all afternoon and stayed up most of the night. What about you?”

“I slept for five hours in the afternoon, watched a movie, went to sleep for another five hours, had a shower, and went to sleep for another five, or something like that,” she complained. “Stupid jetlag.”

He sighed. “Jetlag isn’t something I’m used to. You don’t get it from time-travelling - in fact I don’t think it even exists in the future, since they will eventually have one standard time zone.”

“Really? That makes so much more sense.” Her words made her sound interested, but her expression looked exhausted if anything, and she changed the subject. “Anyway, I’m starving. Have you had breakfast? I want to check out the restaurant.”

“That makes two of us. Let me put on some shoes and we’ll go.” He closed the door between them, put on a pair of shoes – Converse, not his usual footwear – and met her in the hallway. “Shall we?” he asked, offering her his arm. She took it, and they went down to breakfast.

After breakfast they went into town to the Torchwood Four office. Instead of Clea coming down to meet them at reception, Leilani appeared and informed them that her boss was _busy_ with a roll of her eyes. Gwen and Jack looked at each other and shrugged, wondering what Clea was supposedly busy with. The secretary took them up to the office.

When they entered the room, they saw Clea sitting at her desk while a blonde woman sat on the desk, her long legs stretched out luxuriously before her. She had grey eyes and shoulder-length hair and she was saying, “I just can’t believe that I’m gone for one day – _one day!_ – and you cut your hair!” She touched Clea’s jaw-length hair with elegant fingers, tutting at the director, who was about to reply when Jack cleared his throat.

“Good morning,” he told the room.

Clea tore her eyes off the blonde beauty perched on her desk and smiled at him and Gwen. “Good morning, how are you?”

“We’re okay,” Gwen replied. “Jetlagged, but okay.”

“Good,” Clea smiled. “I’d like you to meet Calandria Blanco Diaz. She’s our police liaison and part-time technical genius.”

Calandria pouted. “Is that all I am to you, Clea?”

“Time and place, Callie.” Clea fixed her with a look. “This is Jack Harkness and Gwen Cooper.”

Calandria shook Jack’s hand and said, “Nice to meet you,” before moving on to the ex-police constable, eyeing her up. “Hello, beautiful.” She looked down at the wedding ring on Gwen’s finger as she shook her hand. “Married, are you? Such a shame. Still, if you’re up for-”

Clea stood and covered Calandria’s mouth with her hand, not looking impressed. “We are _professionals_ ,” she hissed. “Grow up.” She turned to the visitors from Cardiff and said, “Should I show you the cells? We haven’t made any progress on identifying that alien we caught last week.”

“Sure. Let’s see if we can lend our knowledge,” Jack replied.

Clea gestured for him and Gwen to follow her, ignoring Calandria, who followed them as well, swaying her hips as she walked.

Jack brought up the topic of weather as they went down to the basement, since he had a question. “It was sunny yesterday, wasn’t it? But it began raining last night, and now it’s cloudy. Does the weather here always change so quickly?”

Clea laughed, stopping to swipe her card at the entrance to the cells. “Welcome to New Zealand, Jack. We get four seasons in one day, so sudden changes in the weather aren’t that surprising. And it rains a lot in Auckland, too, meaning that sunny days are rare and always appreciated, although this summer looks like it will be pretty hot and sunny.”

“I sure hope so,” Calandria put in her two cents. “Last summer was a disappointment.”

“Yeah, well, we need to get used to the northern climate,” Clea told her. “This isn't Christchurch.”

The blonde woman sighed.

“Where are you from, Calandria?” Gwen asked somewhat out of the blue. She’d noticed that the blonde had a Spanish name but also had a fairly strong Kiwi accent, although she rolled her Rs.

“I was born in Madrid but my family moved to Christchurch when I was a toddler,” Calandria explained. “So I have a very Spanish name, even though I don’t sound like it.”

“You still roll your Rs though,” Jack pointed out. “Not that it’s a bad thing; I think it’s charming, in fact.”

“And you have a degree in charming,” Gwen teased.

“Enough with the chitchat,” Clea clapped her hands to get their attention. She led them to a cell that was similar to those at the hub in Cardiff, only the holes in the glass were higher up, closer to the ceiling. “We have no idea where it came from, and we have no descriptions of anything like it in our records.” She stepped aside so that Gwen and Jack could come and stand in front of the glass.

Jack barely had to glance at the alien inside the cell. He looked at Gwen and together they said, “Weevil.”

“I’m sorry?” Clea frowned.

“We call them weevils,” Jack clarified. “They live in the sewers in Cardiff and we have to frequently hunt them out when they decide to go walkabouts in the streets.”

“Oh.” Clea’s face brightened in relief that this mystery had been solved so soon. “Are they dangerous?”

“Yeah,” Gwen winced in sympathy. Weevils wreaked havoc in her own city, and she remembered how she had felt when she had found out about them. To discover that they also lived in Auckland was not a reassuring thought. “You’ve probably noticed the sharp teeth.”

“They go straight for the jugular,” Jack added. “So it’s a quick death, if not an ideal one.” Gwen threw him a stern look that said, _You shouldn’t tell them about your immortality._

“Where do they come from?” asked Calandria, touching the glass with a thoughtful expression on her face, brow furrowed.

“That we don’t know,” said Jack. “All we know is that there have been more and more of them running around in the streets in recent years, and that they smell. There isn’t much to know, except that you have to be careful when running after them. If you want my advice, trust me when I say that you should not go hunting them alone.” He’d learnt that lesson enough times, that was for sure.

Clea exhaled. “Calandria, are you getting all this? I’d like you to create a file on this weevil later.”

The woman in question nodded. “Is there anything else?”

Jack filled her in on what little information they knew about weevils, most of it useless trivia that had been discovered due to Owen’s experiments on the creatures. When he was done, Clea turned to him and said, “Yesterday you said something about a Rift, and I couldn’t stop wondering last night what you meant, since it sounded quite important. So what is this Rift?”

Jack sighed, and told her everything he could about the Rift in time and space that ran through what he had come to call his city.


	8. A Day to Be Alive

That day Jack and Gwen told Clea and whoever else from Torchwood Four was listening all about their work and how they organised themselves, including plenty of anecdotes and not so humorous tales. Clea returned the favour by doing the same about her team. Laughter, sympathetic smiles, and a few blinked-back tears ensued. There was much to talk about between the two groups, and it was mid-afternoon by the time they finished.

“I think that’s enough for one day,” Clea said after an awkward silence had fallen, implying that there was nothing else to be done for the moment and that they were free to go.

Jack agreed, and Gwen asked if there were any attractions they could go and see. Clea pointed them in the direction of the Sky Tower and also gave them some addresses for good restaurants. Then she said, “There have been reports over the past week of unidentifiable creatures at Piha, so some of us are going to go and check it out tomorrow. You’re welcome to join us for a day at the beach.”

Jack and Gwen looked at each other, and couldn’t refrain from smiling at the prospect. “That sounds great,” Gwen said while Jack declared, “We’d love to!”

“Fantastic,” Clea smiled. “Make sure you bring togs, towels, and sunblock.”

“Togs?” Gwen frowned. Jack shrugged.

“Or whatever you like to swim in. Bikini, board shorts, whatever…”

“Oh, right.” Understanding dawned on Gwen’s features. She felt like laughing at herself. “Lucky I brought my bikini then.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “Gwen Cooper owns a bikini?”

She slapped his arm. “You don’t get to touch,” she scolded. She turned to Clea. “What time should we get here?”

“How about we pick you up on the way? It’ll mean a huge detour since your hotel is in the other direction, but that’s okay. Wait for us outside at 11?”

Jack nodded. “See you then.” He and Gwen walked away towards the Sky Tower, smiling. It had been a relief to share their experiences with the Auckland Torchwood team, and he walked with an extra spring in his step, his shoulders pushed back, the same confident gait he had when wearing his coat, only he wasn’t wearing it. “Isn’t it a day to be alive?” he said to Gwen.

The Welshwoman eyed the overcast sky above them surreptitiously, and frowned at Jack. “Care to explain?”

“Nope,” he replied with his usual cheerfulness. “It’s just a good day.”

“Okay.” There was still confusion in her tone, but she decided to leave it. If he were having a good day, she wasn’t going to complain and she wasn’t going to rain on his parade.

When they were on the main observation level, he repeated what he had said. They walked all around the room, looking out over the city, comparing it to their own city.

“It’s probably twice the size of Cardiff,” Gwen observed.

“And it’s not even that big a city,” said Jack. “It’s just a town, compared to many of the places I’ve seen and been.”

He stepped onto the glass floor and starting doing a little tap dance. “This glass is just 38mm thick,” he informed her. “But it can hold my weight just fine.”

Gwen watched, gulping as she tried not to fear for his life. Even though she knew that he could survive a fall from 186m – or rather, not stay dead for long after hitting the ground – she didn’t want to have to watch it. Seeing him splattered on the pavement below would not be pretty. She led him away to a different part of the room.

She turned away for one minute to watch the sun shine through the clouds and hit the water in front of the Harbour Bridge in the distance, sighing at the sight. When she turned back, Jack wasn’t where she had last seen him. “Jack?” she called out. When he didn’t reply, she went looking for him and found him trying to persuade someone who worked there to let him go up to the highest level, even though they hadn’t paid for that in their admission. “Come on, Jack,” she said, tugging at his sleeve.

“Hey, I just want to go higher. You know I like roofs,” he explained himself.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to go back down and pay if you want to do that,” the Sky City employee said, putting on an apologetic expression.

“Fine,” he huffed. He’d tried playing the Torchwood card, but she hadn’t bought it. Apparently Torchwood actually _was_ a secret in this city. “Come on,” he said to Gwen, taking her hand. “I’ve seen enough anyway.”

When they were back on the ground level it took Gwen a while to regain her balance, as the lift had been very fast and being up so high had made her a little dizzy. Jack suggested that they go back to their hotel for a bit and then go out for dinner at one of the restaurants Clea had recommended. Gwen was happy to oblige, ready for a rest. A nap would be welcome.

Hours later she was woken from her nap by Jack, asking her if she were ready to go. She jumped out of bed and freshened up, putting on something a little formal before they caught a taxi to the Viaduct. It was seven in the evening but it would still be light for hours, so they chose to sit outside the restaurant they had elected to dine at, and didn’t correct the waitress who thought they were a couple.

* * *

 

Ianto was feeding Myfanwy her breakfast when the computer alerted him to a Rift spike. Giving the pteranodon a pat, he went down to see what had fallen through this time, tossing her a dark block of chocolate as an apology for having neglected her recently. When Ianto had determined that the object that had fallen through the Rift seemed like a harmless piece of alien tech, something resembling a communication device, he traced its location and was on his way.

Upon reaching the farm – he tried not to think about what had happened the last time he had been in the countryside – he sweet-talked the farmer into letting him into one of the paddocks. With him he took a scanner and a container to put the device in, and walked out into the field, trying not to slip in the wet and muddy grass. _God, I hate winter, especially this early in the morning,_ he thought as he nearly fell on his arse a second time. When he reached the device, he looked down to examine it, giving it a quick scan. A light flashed, and his scanner gave a shrill beep, a warning. He looked again at the alien technology and saw that there was a screen which displayed a three, which one second later turned into a two.

_Shit!_

He turned his back and sprinted in the opposite direction, heart pounding as he ran for his life.

The explosion threw him forwards and sent him sprawling onto the ground, landing in the mud with most of his weight on his left wrist. Only when he thought it was safe did he dare to move, rolling onto his side and then using his other arm to push himself onto his feet, groaning as he did so. His ears rang from the boom, and as he walked back towards the detonated bomb on unsteady legs, he cradled his injured wrist to his chest.

When he got back to where the device had sat, there was nothing there. Or rather, there was nothing except the expected aftermath of a bomb in the middle of a paddock. He had nothing to retrieve, so he stumbled back to the house, apologised to the farmer for there being an old mine in his field, and drove away in the SUV. His wrist still throbbed when he got back into the city, so once again he drove himself to A&E. This time he had received a sprained wrist, but it was a small price to pay for coming that close to being blown to pieces by the bomb.

With two bandages on the same arm, Ianto drove back to the hub and restricted his own duties for the rest of the day to paperwork and research, anything that didn’t involve lifting. He tried to work out where the bomb disguised as a communication device had come from, but without the actual bomb to examine, it was impossible, so he gave up on it.

Around lunchtime, he had made a decision and picked up the phone to ask a certain someone to come and help him monitor the Rift for the next week and a half. As much as it hurt his pride to admit it, he couldn’t do it alone. Today’s events had made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t cut out for handling fieldwork by himself. It was too risky.

Martha Jones agreed to come to Cardiff the following evening.


	9. Piha Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if it still airs, but Piha Rescue is a show about life-saving at Piha, a dangerous beach outside of Auckland. I've been to Piha once and was too scared to get in the water, thanks to that show. But I think the title fits this chapter. Also, Magnums are delicious ice blocks that are not cheap. They're my favourite. While I’m here I'd like to point out the weirdness of writing a story set in summer when it's winter. It means my characters are in completely different moods to me. I'm jealous.

Jack and Gwen were picked up by Clea in the Mazda the next morning, tossing their stuff in the boot and sliding into the backseat next to Calandria. In the passenger seat was Red, one of the handsome doctors, who smiled at them before turning back to Clea to continue a conversation on whether there would be hot lifeguards at the beach. Jack put his two cents in and said that he would be willing to stage a near-drowning as long as someone attractive got to do CPR on him, which earned him an elbow in the ribs from Gwen, who was squished between him and the blonde woman.

They drove over the Harbour Bridge and onto the North Shore, causing a remark from Red about how they were now in foreign territory. Clea cleared her throat and reminded him that she lived on the Shore, so he shouldn’t say things like that. On their way out of Auckland she asked if anyone felt like ice creams and, getting a chorus of yeses, she stopped outside a dairy. She returned to the car with four and a half Classic Magnums. They drove the 40km journey to Piha with the car radio on, singing to the latest Katy Perry song and being merry as you do on your way to the beach in summer.

Clea pulled up in a car park half an hour later. “We’re here!” she announced with her characteristic enthusiasm, opening her door and hopping out of the car. The others piled out after her.

“Right, here’s the plan.” She gathered them into a circle around her. “We blend in - sunbathing, chatting up lifeguards, whatever. But keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. Based on the reports, I’m sure there’ll be something. The creatures are reportedly knee height, dark green in colour, and don’t go in the water so they shouldn’t be hard to spot. Got that?”

The group smiled and nodded, so they got towels, bags, and hats out of the boot.

“Beach-dwellers, go forth and do your thing,” Clea said with a sweeping gesture towards the beach.

They all scampered off and found a spot to set up base. Laying towels down on the sand, they sat on them and did their thing. Before long they had all donned sunglasses and were doing a variety of things - Clea had a book she was reading, Calandria was using her phone, and Gwen flicked through a magazine, while the two men used the disguise of their sunnies to check out the other people on the beach, playing a game where they counted how many tens they saw in one hour. When Calandria realised what they were doing she admonished them for being sexist. Little did she know that most of the “tens” were male.

The group kept doing what they were doing for a while, until the sun started shining brighter and it got hotter. Jack got to his feet and announced, “I’m going in for a dip. Anyone want to join me?”

“I will,” said Red. The two took off their shirts and discarded them in the sand before strolling down to the surf.

“Be careful!” Clea called after them.

“We will,” the men chorused.

Gwen watched them through her sunglasses. “Hmm, do you think…?”

“Nope,” said Calandria with an edge of certainty.

“Well…” Clea was less sure.

“Definitely not,” the blonde shook her head.

“If you say so,” Clea raised an eyebrow.

Gwen was about to announce that she was hungry and that maybe they could get some lunch, when there was a scream from somewhere on their right. Within seconds, Clea had whipped off her sunglasses and put a pair of binoculars up to her eyes. “Alien!” she called, and ran off in the direction of the scream.

Calandria and Gwen were a little slower to get to their feet, and Gwen tripped on one of the towels that was half-buried in the sand. Calandria caught her before she face planted into the sand, grabbing her arms. They stood almost chest to chest.

Gwen laughed nervously. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Calandria replied. She took some sort of device out of her shorts pocket and said,  
“Come on,” chasing after Clea.

The creature was green and scaly and, as Clea had said, came to the height of their knees. It was frightening a number of small children when it sneaked up behind them and gave them a little lick. Gwen watched Clea try to corner it, but it ran out of her grasp, running much faster than an animal of its size would be expected to run. Clea gave a shout of frustration and ordered Calandria and Gwen to help her.

“I think we need a diversion,” the blonde huffed.

The other women agreed. “How about a meat sandwich?” Gwen suggested. “By the looks of its teeth, it’s no vegetarian.”

“I believe the term is herbivore, but I see your point,” said Clea.

“We didn’t bring food with us,” Calandria pointed out.

“Of course we didn’t. We never bring food when we need it and we always bring it when we don’t need it,” Clea sighed. “Okay, we’ll have to ask other families if they have any. As many as you can, go!”

The three set off along the beach, asking people if they had meat sandwiches they could have. Gwen explained her requests by saying that she was Torchwood and they were currently saving the world. Adults looked at her like she was crazy - although the kids looked at her with hero worship - but they surrendered their lunches. Gwen met up with Clea and Calandria a few minutes later, their hands full with sandwiches.

“Okay. Who’s going to be the decoy?” asked Clea, a little out of breath.

“I will,” Gwen volunteered.

Clea nodded. “Thanks. This would be much easier with Red and Jack’s assistance, but we don’t have time right now to retrieve them from the water. Gwen, you take the sandwiches and leave a trail of them away from everyone. I’m hoping _it_ will follow. Me and Callie will be right behind it, and while it’s distracted with the bait we’ll pounce.”

She pulled a black hood sort of thing out from the pocket of her boardshorts, Gwen looking surprised that she could fit anything in there. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Gwen and Calandria replied at the same time.

The Welshwoman ran off with the sandwiches to find the alien creature, the Kiwi women following. It hadn’t got far. When Gwen found it, she tore off a bit of sandwich, which was difficult to do when her hands were full of them, and threw it near its head. She looked behind her and plotted a trail away from the innocents on the beach, tearing off chunks of meat sandwich and throwing them on the ground. The alien followed, taking jumps to get from piece to piece.

While the alien followed Gwen’s trail, Clea and Calandria followed the alien. Gwen sensed rather than saw their movements, as she was concentrating on the creature and didn’t want it to see her looking behind it, just in case it was intelligent enough to see that something was going on. At the crucial moment, when there was only one more piece of bread and they were considerably out of the way of the people, the women pounced, Calandria grasping at the alien and Clea trying to shove the hood on it. Calandria managed to get a hold on the creature, keeping it still so that her boss could put the hood on it, Gwen watching with wide eyes.

Clea snatched the hooded alien up, staying out of the way of its clawed feet. It struggled against her, kicking out, and Gwen saw that her arms trembled with the effort of keeping it still, or at least not hyperactive. “Back to the car,” the auburn-haired woman panted, so they trudged through the sand back to the car park.

Calandria opened the boot and unlocked a cage that was inside it. She and Clea shoved in the alien and locked the door of the cage. They shut the boot and leant against it, getting their breaths back. For the second time Gwen was about to say something about getting lunch when she was interrupted again, by another scream, coming from the direction of the surf. She sighed as they ran towards the water’s edge.

And laughed when she saw what the problem was.

Another of the green alien creatures was biting Jack’s bum.

He was screaming and Red was staring in amazement at the alien, obviously trying to identify it. Clea and Calandria waded into the water, while Gwen looked on in amusement. Jack caught her expression. “Oi, it’s not funny!” he shouted. “This bloody hurts.”

She shook her head. “There is an alien – which looks like a dinosaur from _Jurassic Park_ – hanging onto your arse with its teeth. Explain to me how that isn’t funny,” she demanded.

He gave her a death glare. “Get it off!” he moaned to the Torchwood Four agents.

“We’ll do our best,” Clea said from behind him.

“Where does it even come from?” Calandria enquired. It wasn’t clear who she was talking to, but Red answered:

“I don’t know. But we _will_ get to the bottom of this.”

Jack groaned.

“It’s definitely carnivorous,” Calandria said helpfully. “I’m craving meat right now. A good old _rump steak_ would be just the thing.”

“Me too,” agreed Clea, licking her lips. “Medium _rear._ ”

Gwen could hardly stand up straight as she joined them, she was laughing so hard. Jack scowled.

Eventually they got the thing off Jack’s bum and put it in the cage with the first one.

“How many more?” Calandria puffed as they slumped against the Mazda.

The rumble of Gwen’s stomach interrupted them. “Is it lunchtime yet?” she asked.

No-one answered her as at that moment they were distracted by three aliens running across the car park and down the road.

“After them!” Jack shouted, and they all ran after the creatures, although he lagged behind, not quite reaching his usual speed thanks to a slight limp caused by the puncture wounds from the alien’s teeth in his bottom.

The three aliens split up so the five humans split up too, going in whatever direction felt natural to them. Clea and Red ran off to the left, Jack and Gwen ran off to the right, and Calandria sprinted straight ahead, eyes fixed on her target. Much shouting and swearing ensued: mostly from Gwen, who had rolled her ankle, and Calandria, who was desperate to catch the green creature on her own.

Jack managed to corner one creature, and gestured for Gwen to approach. She tiptoed up behind the alien and launched herself at it, wrapping her arms around it tightly. Like the other two, it struggled, but the agents managed to wrestle it into the car, whose boot had been left open either by accident or with the thought of needing it open later. They shoved it in the cage with its friends.

Red and Clea, on the other hand, were struggling for breath. Their alien led them on a long chase up the road, almost resulting in a run-in with a gold RAV 4, before they finally got ahead of it and lured it back the way they had come. Once in the car park, they turned the tables and chased _it_ , straight into the Mazda. Clea gasped for air, and Red was doubled over.

“And I used to be a rugby player,” he huffed.

“Oh,” said Jack, who was watching them with concern. “That explains the muscles.”

“It does indeed,” the shorter man replied, sucking in oxygen.

While this was happening, Calandria sprinted as fast as she could after her prize, legs and arms pumping and breathing through her mouth. She was a natural sprinter, had come first place in the 100m race on Athletics Day at intermediate, both years. Twenty years later and she still had it. She tackled the alien to the ground and dragged it back towards the car park. She pushed it into the cage in the car boot and to the surprise of her peers, was not breaking a sweat, and her cheeks weren’t even any pinker than usual. Jack watched this with raised eyebrows, giving off a stern aura when he was in fact impressed.

Clea clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Right,” she said, “let’s get back to HQ. I think our work here is done. And besides, I think it’s about to rain – I wouldn’t want to get caught out on the beach.” Indeed, clouds were drawing in.

The others agreed. The five Torchwood agents hopped into the car and drove off, all of them glad to return to the city. The beach had been nice to relax on, but the dinosaurs had ruined the feeling. And besides, it was a weekday - they had work to do.

Eight minutes into their drive back to Auckland, the rain bucketed down. Clea turned her windscreen wipers on full speed, but before long had to pull over. Visibility was just too low. The loud sound of heavy rain hitting the Mazda’s tin roof made them Jack wince. He had all sorts of memories of things that had happened in weather like this. The torrential rain continued for minutes and the group sat in the car in silence, except for Clea, who tried getting a hold of the team in their office, but had no signal on her phone. Whether it was due to their location or the weather, they couldn’t say, but Jack could see the frustration on her face.

Eventually the rain let up, just a little, and Clea turned the engine back on. They didn’t get very far, as a _Road Closed_ sign had been placed in the middle of the road and she had to turn back. With a mumbled “Shit!” she drove back the way they had come, looking for a motel in Piha itself. Gwen took note of the road sign when they turned into Sylvan Glade, thinking it was a beautiful name for a street, and was happy to see that Clea pulled up in front of a place called Black Sands Lodge.

“We’re practically on the beach here,” the director of Torchwood Four told them all. “Anyway, I thought we could shelter here until the road is open again. I think the car is a bit cramped for all of use to camp out in.”

The others couldn’t disagree there. “I don’t suppose anyone brought an umbrella?” Gwen asked, looking out through the windows of the car.

Red shook his head. “We’ll just have to run for it.”

“Grab your stuff, and let’s go.”

They booked a beach cabin, just so they had somewhere to sit down. Wondering if they would have to stay the night, they brought their beach bags in, forgetting about the aliens in the boot of the car and settling into the room. It was still cramped with the five of them in there, but they took up places on the beds, the floor, and in the two chairs. Clea said that it was just temporary, and if they had to stay the night at the lodge she would pay for another room or two, although they were all hoping that wouldn’t have to happen.

The rain continued and the wind picked up, the sky much too dark for that time of day, especially in December. Calandria used her phone to ask the team back at HQ if the road was open yet, but it wasn’t. “It’s bad news, I’m afraid,” she told the group. “Looks like we’re stuck here.”

They groaned. “I didn’t bring a toothbrush,” Gwen moaned.

“I didn’t bring my PJs,” Clea complained.

_I still don’t have my coat_ , Jack thought.

“It’s a survival situation, guys,” said Calandria. “We weren’t to know. It’s not every day you get stranded at Piha.”

Half an hour later and they had stopped cursing their luck. Red had turned on the TV to drown out their complaints and was getting into some music programme. Jack flopped down on the bed beside him to watch. It couldn’t help to get reacquainted with modern music.

The girls curled up on the other bed. “Well, I brought nail polish with me,” the blonde woman said.

“Nail polish?” Clea repeated. “To the beach?”

“You always have to be prepared,” Calandria replied. Her face was serious. “Who knows when you’ll need it?”

The three of them painted their nails, just for something to do, telling the guys to shut it when they complained about the smell. The five Torchwood agents entertained themselves for the rest of the day. By the time Mei called and told them that the road had been reopened, it was completely dark and Clea was too tired to drive. “Let’s wait until morning,” she reasoned. No-one argued.

So they stayed the night at the lodge.

In the morning, they met up after breakfast. The women had slept in one room while the men had slept in another, and they were all a little sleepy still. The storm had continued all night and it had been hard to get to sleep with all that noise, but Clea told them to get ready and meet in the car when they were ready. As none of them had a change of clothes or toiletries, it didn’t take long, and in six minutes they were all in the car.

“Let’s go home,” said Clea.

“Let’s go home,” Red and Calandria agreed.

 

* * *

 

Ianto Jones received an alert of an alien running around in the centre of Cardiff just when he was about to get the hub ready for Martha’s arrival. It was dark outside and he was expecting her in twenty minutes, but he gave her a quick call and left the hub in the SUV, armed to the teeth since the computer hadn’t told him what the alien was. He hoped that this was the last alien he would have to face alone for the next wee while, thanks to Martha’s support.

He tracked the alien’s exact location, and was more than a little amused to see that it was running through the park where he had first met Jack. Grabbing everything he thought he might need, he flung open the car door and sprinted over to where he saw something that was not human running away from him. As he ran, his phone rang. “Yes?” he barked, still running.

“Ianto, it’s me,” came Martha’s London accent. “I’ve tracked your location and am nearly there. Looks like you might need help with this one.” Before he could ask how, she hung up.

Ianto caught up to the alien and froze when it turned around to face him. “A _Hoix_ ,” he spat. He absolutely hated the things. He hadn’t had time to get his gun from his holster thanks to Martha’s untimely call, but now he retrieved it. The alien snarled, and pounced. Before Ianto could shoot, he was flat on his back, struggling under the weight of the Hoix holding him down. His heart raced, and he was hoping that this wouldn’t be his last fight, that he wouldn’t die here, alone in a park in Cardiff, with no-one to see. Even as the alien bared its nasty teeth and he closed his eyes, regrets from his short life popped into his brain. He shouldn’t have tried to save Lisa, he should have told Jack he loved him, he shouldn’t have said that he would be fine to monitor the Rift on his own…

There was a gunshot, and the Hoix collapsed on top of him, but it was still breathing. “Oh, really?” said a female voice, and there was another gunshot. The alien was hauled off him and he could breathe. A hand was offered, to pull him up. He took it, and when he was standing, registered the woman’s presence.

“Martha,” he breathed. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Martha said cheerily. “Just doing my job.”


	10. My Database is Bigger than Your Database

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably be the last update for the week. I wrote nearly all of it last night, when the previous chapter took me over two weeks to write! Strange how things like that work out. Enjoy.

Clea pulled up in the parking space at the Torchwood Four headquarters and the others piled out of the car. She called her team inside the building, asking some of them to come down and help. Leila and Urbano appeared minutes later to bring in the cage.

“Ugh, it _stinks_ ,” complained the man who Jack and Red had mentioned in their game of counting the “tens” the previous day. “As soon as we get these creatures looked at this cage has to go.”

“Um, no,” said Leila. “That would be wasteful. I’m going to clean it so we can reuse it.”

“Good thinking, Leila,” said Clea. “Respecting the environment, I like that.”

“Actually, I was just thinking of the trouble it takes to buy that sort of cage,” said the brown-skinned woman.

“You’re not a real Kiwi after all. Get out of here,” Clea scowled.

The doctors carried the cage inside. Gwen wondered how they brought it in past all the non-Torchwood staff in the building without raising suspicion, but it seemed that they managed just fine. Perhaps the other companies who shared the building were paid not to look too hard. Once they got to the Torchwood Four office area, Red and Urbano disappeared into the clinic with the aliens to examine them. Clea went straight to her computer to write some sort of report, and Calandria hacked into the police system to delete the reports of the creatures. Jack and Gwen stood in the middle of the office with nothing to do, watching as the team went about their business.

After a while, Jack cleared his throat. “I thought you said that those aliens didn’t go in the water.”

Clea looked up from what she was doing. “I suppose you’re right, I did say that. Or rather, the reports said that. Either that’s not true, or your arse was so enticing that that one alien braved the water anyway.”

“Language,” Leilani scolded.

“May I remind you that I’m the boss, and an adult, and can say what I want?” Clea said.

Leila didn’t reply, and went back to whatever it was she was doing. Soon the only sound in the room was the tapping of computer keys. It drove Jack crazy, that much silence among so many people, so he went into the clinic to watch the doctors at work.

“These are completely new to us, so we’re going to run some tests. Blood samples, and all that jazz,” Red said for Jack’s benefit.

 _“And all that jazz,”_ Jack couldn’t help singing.

Urbano smirked, and injected a needle into one of the aliens’ legs. “I wonder where it’s from,” he said in his gorgeous accent.

Jack hadn’t reacted in the way he did to someone’s voice in a long time. Sucking in a deep breath, he grabbed at a desk for support, and decided to change the subject to one that had been bothering him for a few days. “Red, I remember when Clea introduced us that she said you had four Andrews here so you all had nicknames. What happened to the others?” he asked.

The Cantabrian put on a pair of reading glasses and started writing on a clipboard. It was some time before he replied, though Jack got the feeling that he wasn’t being ignored. “Andy died of cancer a few years ago. As you know, Andrew Moore, our old leader, committed suicide after the quake, and Drew betrayed us.”

“I’m sorry. How did he betray you, if I may ask?”

“He moved to Australia,” Urbano said dryly.

Jack laughed. “You people and your silly little rivalries.” He shook his head in amusement.

“And I suppose there’s no rivalry between Wales and England,” Red commented, one eyebrow raised even as he took notes on the new alien species.

Jack opened his mouth, and shut it again. The doctors weighed and measured the heights of the aliens, and tried to determine gender, which turned out to be impossible. Urbano analysed the blood samples while Red X-rayed the skeleton of one of the aliens.

“Well,” said Urbano after a while. “They are definitely like dinosaurs.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell, just by looking at them,” Jack replied, his voice oozing sarcasm.

“Okay, you can have that one,” Urbano said quickly, and flashed Jack a heart stopping smile. Jack grinned in return.

When the doctors had done as many tests and analyses as they could, they consulted each other and swapped notes, cross-referencing. Red turned on a laptop and Jack watched as the man started up a program that allowed him to add a new entry to the Torchwood Four alien catalogue.

“What should we call it?” asked Urbano.

Red paused for a second, tapping his chin. Then, “I have just the name!” he announced with a wicked grin, and continued tapping on the keys.

A few moments later, Clea appeared at the door. She knocked on the glass and let herself in, Gwen behind her. “I have a proposal,” the Kiwi woman said to Jack. “If you like, we can exchange databases. I’m sure Torchwood Three has much more knowledge than us, and your database will be larger, so I think we would benefit from sharing catalogues and reports, etc. What do you think?”

“That’s a great idea,” Jack nodded. “I think there would be advantages for all of us. But how would it work?”

“Well, Calandria and Mei can sort out one of the computers here, and if we get your man at home to switch on the Mainframe in Cardiff and log onto the same program, we can share the files. It will take a while, but it can run unmonitored throughout the rest of the day and all through the night,” Clea explained.

“That would be wonderful,” Gwen gushed. It made sense to share information, since the two teams were on the same side and would benefit from having the same amount of alien knowledge.

Jack agreed. “Okay, should we give Ianto a call?”

“You tell him what we’re going to do, then give the phone to Mei, so she can tell him how it will work,” Clea suggested.

Jack called Ianto and smiled at the sound of his partner’s voice, and was very tempted to say some very dirty things – phone sex was something he’d always wanted to try with his Welshman – but as he was in polite company, he had to make do with a few flirty comments. Ianto’s replies weren’t as flirty, which made Jack frown, wondering what was up. Then he heard a woman’s voice in the background. “Oi, is someone there with you?” he asked, experiencing the green-eyed monster playing with him.

“What? Oh, yeah,” Ianto replied. “I asked Martha to come in and help.”

“That’s nice. Can I ask why?”

“It might have something to do with the fact that I got hurt two times in two days because I had to go out in the field alone.”

“You’re injured?” Jack gasped.

“Yes, but I’m fine. Anyway, Martha was kind enough to lend me a hand, since I injured one of mine.”

Jack’s face took on a guilty expression. “That’s good. I mean, it’s not good that you’re injured, but-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Did you call for anything in particular?”

“Actually, yes. As much as I wanted to hear your beautiful Welsh vowels again, there is something.”

Jack proceeded to tell Ianto about sharing files on both Torchwood databases, and let the two technicians, Mei and Calandria, talk Ianto through the process. The Welshman agreed to do it, and as soon as Red had finished cataloguing the alien species they had captured the day before, Mei announced that they were ready to begin the file exchange.

“Alright,” said Ianto after a bit, once Jack had stolen the phone back. “My coffee’s getting cold and Martha is making a mess in the autopsy room with a Hoix that nearly killed me, so I’d better go. Give Gwen my love.”

“What?” Jack pouted, even though his partner couldn’t see him. “Is there none for myself?”

 _You know the answer to that one,_ Ianto thought. “You can have some too,” he told Jack. “Good night, cariad.”

“I’ll call again soon. Say hi to Martha for me. Bye, Ianto.” Jack ended the call, and Torchwood’s systems began the long process of sharing immense databases, although one database, Three’s, was noticeably larger than Four’s.

Gwen yawned, getting Clea’s attention. “I suppose you guys will want to go back to your hotel and rest,” she said. “Should I call you a taxi?”

“Yes please.” Gwen stifled another yawn. She felt sticky and sandy and really wanted to change into something warmer. She’d been freezing ever since yesterday’s storm had come and proved Clea’s four seasons in one day claim to be correct. All she wanted was a hot shower to wash away the sand that had accumulated in awkward places, a change of clothes, and something hot for lunch. A phone call to Rhys wouldn’t go amiss, either. Jack talking to Ianto had made her realise that she wanted her husband here with her. She missed him.

When she and Jack were in the taxi, away from the ears of Torchwood Auckland, Jack said, “So, I was impressed by Calandria and Red, yesterday.”

Gwen turned to him with a smirk playing over her features. “Impressed by them in swimsuits, don’t you mean?”

Her boss and friend bit back a grin. “Well, that too. Red does possess some nice abs, and white must simply be Calandria’s colour.” He laughed. “But no, that’s not what I meant. Did you see how fast she was? And she took down one of the aliens by herself. We need someone fast on their feet. Not that you and Ianto are slow, but…”

“Yeah, I know,” she smiled her understanding. “Callie’s fast. And Red is strong. We could definitely do with them on our team.”

 _“And you know, we’re on each other’s team,”_ sang Jack.

“Don’t let Callie hear you singing that,” said Gwen. The blonde Spaniard had made it quite clear that she would not tolerate hearing another lyric of Lorde’s overplayed songs.

“Oh, so you’re calling her Callie now?” Jack teased.

“We’re friends,” she shrugged. “She’s a nice person. And besides, Calandria is a mouthful.”

He bit his tongue to stop himself saying something inappropriate in reply.

* * *

 

Back in Cardiff, Ianto finished his coffee before going to check on Martha and telling her about the sharing of information that was taking place in the background. He asked if she had somewhere to go to after she’d finished with the Hoix, and was about to go back to his computer when she asked, “Ianto?”

“Yes?” he turned back to face the beautiful woman with whom he shared a surname.

“Last time I was here, I asked if you and Jack had something going on, and you said that you ‘dabbled’. If I remember correctly,” she said with a curious smile, “you said that his dabbling was ‘innovative’ and ‘bordering on the avant garde’. Does that ring a bell?”

He shuffled his feet. “That sounds like me. So?”

“So,” she drawled, “how’s your dabbling going? I know it’s still going, because last time I saw Jack he asked me for a red UNIT cap, again.”

Ianto shook his head in disbelief. “As if I would _ever_ wear a _beret_ ,” he scoffed.

She smirked, but her eyes were knowing. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“In answer to your question, we’re officially more than dabbling now,” he replied. “Officially, we’re ‘partners’, though god knows what that really means.”

“It means it’s serious, that’s what,” she informed him.

He gave her a quick nod and, conversation over, went back to his desk. Hundreds of alien profiles flashed on his screen, and when a green creature popped up that looked like a dinosaur he’ d seen in _Jurassic Park_ , he paused the download to look more closely. He looked at the name of the alien and nearly fell off his chair.

 

_Harknesaur._

Then he read the section _Experience with alien_ , written by one Andrew Redmond, which was complete with dialogue from when one of the aliens had attacked Jack’s bum just yesterday. Ianto fell off the chair for real this time, he was laughing so hard.

“Oi, what’s _your_ problem?” Martha shouted, eerily reminding Ianto of Owen.

He was laughing too much to even attempt an answer.


	11. Kill of the Night

Jack was alone in his hotel room when his phone rang. He picked it up. "Hello?"

"Harknesaur? Really?" came the voice on the other end of the line, with no greeting whatsoever.

"What?" Jack frowned, recognising the voice but having no idea what his partner was talking about.

"They named a dinosaur-alien after you," Ianto explained.

Both of Jack's eyebrows rose. "Did they?" he asked. "Who's 'they'?"

A strange sound came from the speaker of Jack's phone, and he realised it was Ianto's laugh. "It's all on the Torchwood Four database. They even recorded their experience with the alien, which makes for some entertainment. I think Martha may have wet herself."

"Oh, that's…nice." Jack looked around the room, his eyes not landing on anything for longer than a second. Any other person would have recognised what he felt as embarrassment, but the feeling was foreign to him.

Ianto snorted. "Do you have a scar?" he asked.

"Just let me check," Jack replied, and waited a few seconds before saying, "Nope."

"Good," replied Ianto. "I don't want that arse of yours to be in anything less than perfect shape when you get back."

Jack smirked to himself, and would have given his partner a demonstration of how perfect his arse was if they had both been in the same room, let alone the same country. "It will be," he said. "You can't mess with this level of perfection. Even if you're a dinosaur from another part of the galaxy."

"I'm glad to hear that." Jack could hear the smile in Ianto's voice.

* * *

Gwen was likewise on the phone to her man, and was just about to hang up when she heard some loud panting and swearing from the other room. Her cheeks warmed when she realised what was going on. "I'll talk to you later, love," she told Rhys. "Goodbye." She hit end call as fast as she could, hoping her husband couldn't hear the sounds from the next room.

Gwen got up off the bed and padded to the other side of her room so she could bang on the wall. "Isn't it a little early in the day?" she shouted.

"Huh… What?" came Jack's voice, sounding strained.

"I can hear what you're doing in there!" she called. "The walls aren't exactly thick."

Silence fell between them.

"Oh," said Jack after a little while. "Well, you could join me if you want," he offered. "It's a little lonely having to make do with just Ianto's voice and not his body."

She shuddered. "No thank you!" she declined a little too quickly. "I don't want to be involved in your phone sex."

"Are you sure?" Jack asked, teasing.

"Quite! The girls have invited me on a shopping trip, so I'm going with. I'll see you in a few hours?"

"The girls?" Jack repeated.

"Clea, Callie, and Mei. Although I get the feeling that Mei doesn't like Callie all that much," Gwen said, having noticed how Mei seemed to always ignore the blonde woman. "Anyway, I'll see you later."

"Right. Have fun."

"You too," Gwen returned with a wry smile, and knocked on the wall again for good measure before she picked up her handbag and left the room, humming to herself. It had been months since she'd had time to go shopping, and it would be fun to do it with women she didn't have to hide her new life from, since they were Torchwood agents too.

The four of them strolled up Queen Street, popping into clothing shops every now and then, chatting about girly things all the while. Gwen had missed this – being able to talk to people with similar interests and not having to lie about what she did for a living. She smiled and laughed with the three other women, and it was genuine, reminding her of her teenage years. She liked this honesty that she didn't have with her girlfriends at home, and she got on well with Calandria, who had a similar background in the police force. The trip wasn't the longest, as the Torchwood Four girls had slotted it into their lunch break, and at the end of the trip, the Kiwi ladies dropped Gwen off at the bus terminal with her shopping bags and walked further down the street, back to their headquarters.

Gwen hopped on a bus that would take her back in the direction of the Ibis Hotel and sat down, looking through the bags to check out her purchases. From a dairy she had bought a bag of Jaffas and a bag of Pineapple Lumps after being bullied into it by Clea, who promised that she wouldn't regret it. She opened the Pineapple Lumps and popped one of sweets in her mouth. She sucked on it until the chocolate had all melted off in her mouth, then chewed the pineapple part, her mouth producing more saliva than was strictly necessary. By the time she got off the bus, the packet was empty. And she didn't even feel guilty.

Once she was back in her hotel room, she threw her shopping bags on the big queen-sized bed and went through everything she had bought that afternoon. She'd bought a new bikini, some Merino shirts (since she would be going home to Cardiff in the middle of winter), a kiwiana mug, and a rugby shirt. Pleased with her bargains (which were really rip-offs) she got out her phone and sent Rhys a SnapChat of her with her finds. Her husband immediately sent back a photo of him in his Welsh rugby shirt, striking a manly pose. She laughed out loud at her daft husband, a soft expression taking over her features. She had fallen in love with him yet again.

* * *

When she and Jack came into the Torchwood Four HQ the next day, they found Calandria asking Leila for a cup of tea. "Please?" Calandria begged, pouting.

"Get it yourself," Leila snapped. "I'm a secretary, not a slave. If you want someone to make your tea, hire an assistant." She was holding open a heavy book; she now slammed it shut in her colleague's face.

Calandria blinked, sighed, and left for the staffroom to get her hot drink, even though it was quite a hot day and the forecast said that the high would be 25 degrees. Gwen and Jack exchanged sheepish glances. Back at home they still asked Ianto for coffee, despite his promotion to more than just general support, and realised that perhaps they could get him to teach them how to make their own coffees. But then again, thought Jack, Ianto took great pride in making it himself, and he was the only one the coffee machine worked for.

Jack's thoughts about not exploiting Ianto for his coffee-making skills were interrupted by the sight of Jim Robinson, the sexy accountant, leaning over his desk to reach something. The man had apparently got a new desk, the type where you had to stand to decrease your daily dose of time spent sitting down, and this gave Jack a lovely view of the man's behind. He approached the accountant with a smile. "Are things always this dramatic in here?" he asked.

Jim blinked up at him, expression neutral. "Yep," he said shortly. "Like _Shortland Street_."

"But more exciting," Leila called.

Jack raised one eyebrow. "I see. And is dealing with the budget that exciting?" he asked, his tone practically a drawl.

He was still addressing Jim, but Leilani answered. "I doubt it," she told him. She beckoned at Jack to come over to her desk, and he complied. Lowering her voice, she advised, "Don't waste your time. He ain't interested."

"Oh, honey," he shook his head. "Everyone's interested in a bit of old Jack Harkness."

She smirked. "Not him. He isn't interested in men, women, or aliens. Don't bother. You'll just end up harassing him."

"Oh." Jack's confident expression slipped away and he looked chastened. "Well. Thanks for the advice."

She nodded. "You're welcome. As for Callie and Urbano, well, on a normal day you'd have no difficulty getting into either of their pants."

He smirked. "Right." It was then that he noticed Gwen was shooting daggers at him. It took a moment for him to realise what it was she was angry about, and when he did he felt hot and cold all at once. _Guilt_. Guilt for considering, or attempting, to cheat on Ianto. He felt uneasy for the rest of the day.

* * *

"Clea!" Mei Sato called out from over at her desk. "You might want to take a look at this."

It was seven in the evening, and Leila, Jim, and the doctors had gone home a couple of hours ago. Clea had been about to announce that the rest could go home, but she crossed the room to see what her 'texpert' was talking about. Jack followed, curiosity piqued. So did Gwen.

Mei pointed at her screen and began speaking in what didn't sound like English, thanks to all the jargon she used. Gwen noticed that Clea nodded along with a faint smile but didn't look like she understood a word of what the woman was saying. Gwen knew the feeling. Mei fell silent after a couple of minutes, looked at Clea, Gwen, and Jack, and said, "Should I translate that into simple English?"

"Yes please," said the director of Torchwood Four.

"Okay," Mei smiled. "We know that there's an alien making its way along Queen Street, heading in this direction, terrorising some members of the public. That sounds simple enough, right?" She received nods from the three standing around her. "The problem is, we have no idea what it looks like. Want to know why?" Again, three nods. "It appears that this alien _changes shape._ "

"A shape-shifter," Clea worked out, her eyes wide.

"Exactly," Mei confirmed.

Jack looked at Gwen, who sighed. "A Nostrovite," she told them. "I had an interesting wedding day, thanks to them."

"Interesting?" Jack repeated. "That's one word for it."

"Well," she reconsidered, "everything worked out in the end. And thanks to you, none of the guests remembered anything out of the ordinary about the day."

He bowed his head slightly. "You're welcome. Though I'm not sure if Gwen Cooper getting married _isn't_ out of the ordinary." The Retcon had actually been Owen's idea, but Jack had carried out the action of drugging the friends and family of the happy couple. Remembering dancing with Gwen that evening, and then Ianto, brought a smile to his face. The woman was right – everything had worked out in the end.

"How do we deal with it?" asked Clea, snapping into leader mode.

"Quickly," Jack answered, and asked if Mei could track the alien.

"Sure," the woman replied, pulling out a smartphone and tapping at some keys. "Got it," she said after a minute.

"Okay. The four of us will go," Clea decided, getting nods from Jack and Gwen which told her that that was alright with them.

They hurried out of the office, Mei leading since she could see where the Nostrovite was headed, and passed Calandria, who was walking the other way with a steaming mug in hand, her last tea for the day. She frowned, and asked where they were going.

"Off to stop a shape-shifter!" Jack informed her as they jogged past.

"Back soon!" added Clea, not slowing down.

They carried on out of the building, following Mei up Queen Street. Gwen was more familiar with the street now, and recognised many of the shops from her shopping trip with the girls the previous day. The four of them dodged members of the public, running into several and knocking over a few. Jack helped any fallen pedestrians onto their feet and charmed them with a smile and apology before continuing on his way. They'd run for more than a couple of blocks before they caught sight of another person running up Queen Street, a person with no obvious reason to be running.

"That's him!" Mei panted. "That's the Nostrovite!" They continued to follow the person until they lost sight of him – he'd changed shape.

Mei turned her attention back to the scanner, which she used to find the Nostrovite again, and swore when the device beeped. She stopped running, and the others bumped into her. "Bad news," she announced. "There's two of them."

"Two?" repeated Clea.

"A mummy and a daddy Nostrovite," Jack told them. "The male will be relatively easy to take down," he said. "The female, not so much."

"Damn," Clea breathed. "Should I call for backup?"

"That would be a good idea," Jack replied, looking serious.

The Torchwood Four director pulled her phone out of her bra, receiving a disgusted look from Mei, and speed dialled a number. "Cal?" she barked. "We need your help. Bring the van." She rattled off their coordinates, passed on from Mei, named some weapons, and hung up. Then for good measure, she dialled another number. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Urbano, but could you and Red get down here? We have a crisis." She gave Urbano the same location she'd given Calandria, then hit end call.

Ten minutes later, Jack and Gwen were sprinting towards the male Nostrovite with Clea, Mei, Red, and Urbano behind them. Gwen shouted with rage as the alien managed to give them the slip, sneaking down an alley, but Mei checked the scanner and found it again, adding that Calandria was nearby. They chased after it and finally succeeded in cornering it. In perfect synchronisation, Gwen and Jack pulled out their guns and shot the Nostrovite dead. Panting, they stood over the body and high-fived each other.

"What the hell was that?" Clea demanded.

They turned to look at her. "Sorry?" Gwen asked.

"Would you care to explain why you have guns?" Clea's her features were stony; she put her hands on her hips. "We never kill aliens and we certainly do not have real guns. It's dangerous and unnecessary. Why do you Americans have to be so trigger-happy?" she asked of Jack, looking at him with disappointment. "Shoot first and think later, is that your motto at Torchwood Three?"

Mei crossed her arms, standing diagonally behind her boss, her stance reminding Gwen of Tosh. Gwen swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. Red and Urbano flanked Clea's left, also looking less than impressed. Even under their scrutiny, Gwen could admire Clea's ability to command loyalty from her team. Although the auburn-haired woman was generally kinder than Jack and seemed more relaxed about running her office, her team was no less loyal, and the Welshwoman observed this with interest. There was more than one kind of great leader in the world.

She and Jack exchanged nervous glances, and it was Jack who chose to answer the question asked of him, though he ignored the accusation of being American. Because of his accent everyone assumed that he was, and in this instance telling the truth wouldn't help his case. It was one thing to be from a different country and go guns blazing into a dangerous situation; it was another to be from a different _planet_ and do the same thing _._

He cleared his throat. "It does often happen that way, yes. I'm sorry if that isn't the way you work, but these aliens are aggressive and must be stopped. Captivity would be a waste of effort and resources. And besides, it doesn't look like you lot are armed right now."

Clea gave him a brief nod. "I see. But how did you even get those guns?" she pressed. "Our gun laws aren't lenient; you can't have acquired gun licences in New Zealand in such a short amount of time. You must have brought them from the UK."

Gwen gave what she hoped was a sympathetic expression. "You don't even want to know," she replied, shaking her head.

The Torchwood Four team members exchanged looks, each with a different expression on his or her face as they imagined the possible ways that Jack and Gwen could have smuggled the guns onto an international flight.

Jack shoved his hands in his pockets, looking sheepish. "What do you use instead of guns?" he asked in genuine curiosity.

"Tranquillisers and stun guns usually suffice," Urbano supplied. As doctors, it would be only natural for him and Red to not want to harm any living creature. "Nets work when they don't."

Jack's face had lit up at the mention of stun guns; now he sighed. "I'm guessing you don't get that many aggressive aliens passing through the area." It wasn't disappointing that these guys didn't have to deal with the same amount of alien visitors as his team did, since they didn't have a Rift in time and space under their city, but it wasn't fair either.

"No, not that many," Clea agreed. "Most are pretty harmless, all things considered. We haven't had a serious threat of alien invasion for a good four years now."

Red and Urbano smirked, and Mei frowned, causing Gwen to raise an eyebrow. There seemed to be an inside joke that the members from Christchurch hadn't shared with the Aucklanders in the team.

"I remember that like it was yesterday," Red grinned. "Callie still hasn't got over it."

"Speaking of which," Clea frowned, "where _is_ Calandria? She was meant to meet us with the van."

A well-timed scream cut through the silence that followed the question, and they took off in the direction of the sound, which had come from around the corner somewhere. Mei consulted her scanner and took the lead. They rounded the corner and came onto a busy street, then turned off onto another smaller one. The Torchwood van was parked on a yellow line. A body lay a few metres away, and a tall, dark-haired woman was running away in the opposite direction.

"Callie!" Clea screamed, recognising the body even from this distance. She ran over to where Calandria lay, bleeding from a wound on her neck, face deathly pale, and held the woman in her arms.

Red and Urbano headed straight for the van, opening the side door and reaching for equipment. Jack joined them in choosing a weapon that would bring the Nostrovite down. He loaded something that looked awfully like a huge gun but according to the doctors was not, and shouted at Mei to lead him on the chase after the alien. The two of them sprinted down the street and confronted the Nostrovite in the entrance to an underground car park. Charged with adrenaline, he didn't have to think before aiming the weapon and just…

"How do I work this thing?" he shouted, even though Mei was right behind him and could hear perfectly well.

"There's a button there and a trigger there."She pointed at the two different parts of the gun, and he shot at the alien without a second thought, ripping holes in the extra-terrestrial form.

When they had got their breaths back – after all, they had run a long way – they dragged the alien back the way they had come, back to the others. As they did, Jack told her to keep an eye out on medical records to see if any sudden and suspicious pregnancies popped up, explaining how Nostrovite reproduction was carried out.

Clea was sobbing as she held the woman in her arms. "Callie!" she screamed, her voice raw with pain. "Don't go, Cal, don't leave me," she begged, looking into the blonde's grey eyes which had now lost their brightness, eyes she knew as well as her own.

Gwen's heart broke for this distraught woman falling apart while holding her beloved's lifeless body and trying to hold on to the hope that it wasn't over. Gwen blinked back tears of her own. It wasn't the death that caused this reaction in her; it was the response of the other woman, the one left behind, who didn't have so much as a scratch on her. She brought her hand up to her mouth and tried not to sob as well.

Red eventually went and touched Clea on the shoulder. "She's gone," he said gently. "I didn't even get to tell her how I felt before she died," Clea sobbed, stroking the hair of the dead woman with reverence.

"She knew," Urbano said, joining them. "You told her every day."

"Not this day," Clea shook her head. "I didn't get a chance, today. She died without knowing."

Red disengaged Clea's arms and set Calandria's body down. He and Urbano pulled Clea in for a tight embrace as she wept and screamed and shook.

The tears were falling freely down Gwen's cheeks by the time Jack and Mei returned with the dead Nostrovite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger but I'm so relieved to have finally finished this chapter! There will be a bit of a plot twist in the next one. I've planned five more chapters after this one, so it's near the end, but there will probably be a sequel some day in the distant future. If you have anything you want to see in the story, just let me know.


	12. Light Surrounding You

It was fairly early in the morning for people to be up and about in Cardiff, but Ianto and Martha popped into a small grocer's that had had a break-in the day before, a crime that the police had decided was not worth their time but since Torchwood Three's Rift alert had picked up activity, Ianto wanted to check it out. He and the UNIT doctor opened the glass door and strode in side by side, very much in sync.

"Good morning, we're with Torchwood and we just want to ask some questions about…" Ianto trailed off when he saw the redhead at the counter, who looked at him in surprise and then recognition. "Cate!" he exclaimed. "How are you?"

The young green-eyed woman grinned at him and came out to hug him. "Hi, Ianto. I'm okay, although the break-in yesterday spooked me a little. I haven't seen you for years, how are you? Back in Cardiff, I see. Sorry, did you say you're with Torchwood? The police told me they would deal with the case. I suppose you're here to ask questions…" She stopped to both take a breath and let Ianto speak, giving him a pleasant smile.

"That's right," he replied, pulling a small notepad out of his jacket pocket. After spending a short period of time in a woman's body not that long ago and having to get used to women's clothing, he was extremely grateful to return to having suitable-sized pockets in his clothes, and now made the most of them by stuffing whatever he could into them, whether it was a notepad, fake ID, or a set of handcuffs. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Martha stood behind him, looking important but otherwise not saying anything.

"Would you like to come through to the back and I'll make you tea?" Cate suggested.

Ianto and Martha accepted the invitation and followed her through the bead curtain and into the kitchen. Ianto murmured into Martha's ear that Cate was a friend from high school who he'd dated for a very brief time in Fifth Form until they both decided that it was too weird and they should remain friends, which they did until they graduated and went their separate ways, him to university and London and her to take over her father's shop. Cate made them tea and they all sat down in chairs in the living room.

She was happy to answer Ianto's questions, and even flirted with the young man, who flirted back. _Old habits must die hard_ , Martha thought with a wry grin, noticing how out of character it was for him to flirt with anyone other than Jack. Cate showed them where the intruder had broken the window and got in, and Martha collected evidence while Ianto took photos of the slimy trail and broken window.

Once they had enough information and could probably deduce the culprit of the break-in at the hub, Ianto returned the camera to his trouser pocket and brushed a bit of dust off his sleeve. "Well, Cate, it's been lovely and I'd love to stay and chat, but we'd better get back to work. This case won't solve itself."

She made a sympathetic agreement and asked if she could clean up the mess that the trespasser had caused, now that the scene had been investigated. Martha said that she could, which made the redhead frown as if noticing the other woman for the first time and turn to her old friend to announce, "You never introduced me to your friend!" She pouted and looked at him with accusing eyes.

He shook his head in amusement at her ridiculous expression, memories of their high school days coming back to him. "Cate, this is Martha Jones; Martha, this is Cate Wilson."

Cate's eyes went immediately to Martha's ring finger. "You didn't tell me you were married!" she squeaked. "And you were definitely flirting with me back there," she accused him. "Right in front of her, too."

Martha looked at her wedding ring, then Ianto, then Cate, piecing together the evidence that had led to the redhead's wrong conclusion. She grinned, and said, "Oh, he's sleeping on the couch tonight."

Ianto spluttered and made a quick exit.

Once they were back at the hub and doing scans on the slime left behind by the intruder, Martha spoke. "She was cute," she commented.

"Hmm?" Ianto looked up from what he was doing. When he realised who Martha meant, he nodded. "Yeah, she is. Dating her was a learning experience, though, for both of us - I found out at the tender age of sixteen that cute is not my type, and funnily enough, a year later she decided that boys weren't her type. So neither of us have regrets."

"Huh." With nothing to say to that, Martha finished the scan she was doing and tapped something into a computer, bringing up the database and putting in the details of their find into the search bar.

Ianto came and stood behind her."Got anything?"

"Yeah." She pointed at the screen, where there was an image of a huge blue alien, slime dripping off it. "Looks like we have ourselves a monster to catch."

* * *

Jack had just enough time to take in the scene – Calandria lying dead, Clea being comforted by her team – before something strange happened. Before his eyes, a golden haze of light formed and surrounded the dead woman's body. The rays curled and twirled around her, illuminating her skin and hair and making her beautiful even in death. He half-heard Gwen's gasp beside him, but ignored it in favour of stepping closer to the body. The others had similar reactions of shock, staring at their friend in wonder and confusion.

Then a new form materialised, seemingly from Calandria's body. The aura coming from this ethereal form was almost blinding, and Jack had to shield his eyes with his hand as he approached it. He looked at her – for it was a woman, at least in shape - in awe, taking in her gold skin and black hair that was also outlined in gold. She was naked, but the sheer power that radiated from her ensured that he did not look upon her in lust, even if he had wanted to. Black eyes watched all of them.

"Who are you?" Jack demanded, taking another step forwards.

The form shifted her gaze to look at just him, raising an eyebrow. Then she spoke, her voice clear and silky. "Once upon a time, all who looked upon me would have got to their knees out of respect. It is a shame that none recognise me anymore, but that is how the world works. People change, and they forget the old gods. But we do not forget them; our power does not diminish just because they no longer worship and believe in us." Six pairs of eyes stared at her.

"Answer the question!" Gwen shouted. "Who are you?"

"I have many names." She gave Gwen and the others a serene smile. "But the one you would probably know best is Isis."

Jack continued staring, his mouth dropping open. "Isis," he murmured to himself. Gwen glanced at him in confusion, and he clarified for her. "An Ancient Egyptian goddess." He couldn't tell her what of, though, as his brain stored the knowledge of many, many different mythologies and he just didn't have room in there to remember every single deity, no matter how important.

"That is correct," said the one who called herself Isis. "I am she."

When it seemed that the goddess wasn't about to elaborate, Clea stepped forwards, her tears having ceased. "This is ridiculous," she muttered to herself. "Gods and goddesses don't exist, not then and not now." She took a deep breath and asked the question that was probably the most important: "Why are you here?"

The goddess's eyes moved to the auburn-haired woman. "For thirty-two years I have taken the form of this human woman." She gestured to Calandria. "It is something I do, when it is prophesied that a woman will be great, and your Calandria was destined for greatness. I have lived inside her body, guiding her and keeping her alive for all these years. That creature you called the Nostrovite was too strong, and I was unable to keep her safe. But I am not ready to let go," she said. "This body has given me freedom after so long. I have not been loved for hundreds of years. I was happy being Calandria." A silver tear tracked its way down her golden cheek.

Clea's face was white. "You m-mean," she stuttered, shaking in Red and Urbano's grip, "that Calandria is… you? She's a goddess? Did she know?"

"She may have had some idea that something about her was different, but she did not know why," Isis replied. "Do not be sad, or angered by this. It is a wonderful thing, to have such a beautiful incarnation as she. I have had the honour of having many incarnations over the millennia. You know of Cleopatra, yes?" The others nodded. "And Hypatia, Eleanor of Aquitaine, Elizabeth I? All were personifications of me. Calandria was the first in several centuries."

"You say that Calandria was destined for greatness," Jack pointed out. "And yet she is dead."

"Every human dies," replied the goddess, looking remorseful, if it were possible for a deity to look remorseful. "But she died without having achieved what she was meant to do. The prophecy has not yet come to pass."

"What prophecy?" asked Gwen.

"I cannot tell you. If I did so, you would tell Calandria, and she must not know. For the prophecy to be fulfilled, no human can know of it."

It hit Jack then just who Calandria Blanco Diaz was, or rather, what she would do in the future. But he said nothing, knowing from his work in the Time Agency and his travels with the Doctor that altering timelines could have disastrous impacts. For everyone's safety, he had to keep quiet and act like he didn't know anything.

"That's very convenient," Clea frowned. "You say there is a prophecy but you can't tell us what it is."

"Daughter," said Isis, "all you have to know is that she cannot die yet. I will not let her. I should not have mentioned the prophecy, but that was my mistake. Forget I said that word." And she raised her hand and swept it over the whole group of people standing before her, gold dust flowing from her fingertips and entering their bodies. Just like that, they forgot that there was some prediction that involved their friend.

The goddess spoke again. "Children, I cannot let Calandria die today. I will bring her back, my life-force keeping her alive, but she will be different. She will now be aware that she is the embodiment of an ancient goddess, and this awareness will surely change her." She gazed down at the blonde woman, her expression that of both hope and regret. "Keep her safe. When she dies again, I cannot bring her back. There is no third chance at life."

Jack looked down at his feet at this statement, grateful when Gwen put a comforting hand on his arm. He had definitely had a third chance, and a fourth, and a four hundredth, at life. And while this powerful goddess could bring someone back to life, he knew that even she could not fix what was wrong with him and give him a normal life. The Time Vortex was even stronger than Isis was, if she couldn't even tell that something wasn't quite right about him. She could give life, but not take away an abundance of it.

"My time is over," Isis announced, her voice reaching each of them. "I cannot stay in this form on this plane any longer. I must return to Calandria's body. You will not see me like this again."

Before anyone could speak, her golden aura began to dematerialise, disappearing back into the body from which she had been borne. A moment later, there was no more golden light and it was just Calandria, lying still and pale on the pavement. They all held their breath in anticipation, unsure of what had just happened.

Jack looked at Gwen and saw the doubt flickering in her eyes – had they really just met an ancient goddess, and was this dead woman really about to come back to life? His expression mirrored hers, although he was not aware of it. He bit his lip, feeling uneasy about the whole thing. He knew that Calandria would probably not appreciate being brought back to life – no-one ever did – but he also knew that she was not immortal, if he could believe what Isis had said about no third chances. Remembering that Owen had been desperate to not return to the darkness, and remembering what had to happen years from now, he made a decision.

He would keep her safe; he would keep her alive. For the future. And, he added as an imperative afterthought, he would never sleep with her.

There was a gasp, and a cough, and he whirled around. Calandria was looking about wildly, trying to sit up. Clea was at her side in seconds. "Callie!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around the woman and holding her in a death grip. Jack thought that she would break the blonde's ribs, but decided that there were worse things than broken ribs. Dying at the wrong time and therefore changing the future was one of them.

The blonde sucked in deep breaths of air, her lungs working again. When her breathing was more normal, she pulled back a bit so that she could see Clea's face. "Hi," she whispered with a smile.

"Hi," Clea whispered back, kissing the other woman's forehead.

"Right," said Red, speaking for the first time in twenty minutes, "who needs a drink?"

Half an hour later, the group were all drinking at a bar in Newmarket, having decided to get away from the city centre and put some distance between them and the scene of the night's earlier events. Jack and Gwen sat a few metres away from the others in order to give them privacy, trying to process what the hell had just happened with Calandria and the goddess. Jack was drinking a little more heavily than usual, which was to be expected. He was still going over the encounter with Isis in his head when he realised that Gwen had asked him a question.

"I said, why don't you like the word 'couple'?" she repeated.

"That's changing the subject a bit, don't you think?" He raised one eyebrow.

"Yeah, but I just heard Mei say the word, and it occurred to me that I have no idea what you have against it," the Welshwoman replied.

Jack took a sip of his beer before responding. "The reason I don't like the word 'couple'," he began, "is because it implies a unit. In a relationship there are two separate individuals – or more –" he glanced at Mei, Red, and Urbano – "not just one. You think and feel and do things differently, not together. Not all the time, anyway. The word 'couple' doesn't allow for individuality; saying that two people are a couple is like saying that they are really only one person and share everything. It's like you can't respect them as different people, when in reality they might be total opposites." His lecture over, he tipped back his beer bottle and drank.

Gwen nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense," she said. "Yeah, I get what you mean. But I think it's romantic to think of two people as sharing one heart, you know? I feel like Rhys is my other half – my better half - and I like that feeling."

He gave her a quick and clumsy hug; the alcohol was getting to him already. "There's nothing wrong with that way of thinking, as long as you don't lose yourself," he told her. "Just don't call me and Ianto a couple."

"Okay, okay," she relented, and finished her drink. Picking up her leather jacket, which she didn't really need, considering it was summer, she said, "I think I'll go back to the hotel; I'm exhausted. You coming?"

He shook his head. "I'm still getting my head around what happened this evening. I should be pretty used to people coming back to life, but meeting goddesses isn't something that happens every day." Especially when their current incarnation would, in the future, be one of the most important people in the history of the universe.

"No," she agreed. "Well, don't stay out too late. I'll probably be asleep when you get back, so see you in the morning." She said good night to the others and walked out of the bar to get a bus back to the hotel.

Jack stayed where he was, ordering drink after drink. He was lost in his not so sharp and intelligent thoughts when Red and Urbano came over to him. "As a doctor, I feel like it's my duty to stop you before you get drunk," the golden-skinned man told him.

Jack laughed. He had drunk way more than they had observed, and it was more than a little late to tell him to stop before he got intoxicated. "I'll stop if you take me home," he bargained, slipping an arm around each man. _Two doctors_ , he thought. _Mmmmmm_.

Urbano and Red looked at each other and nodded. "Okay, but only because you're in no state to go back to your hotel by yourself," Red replied, having noticed the way Jack was slurring his words and having trouble with his coordination.

"Deal."

He let them yank him out of his stool and lead him out of the bar, saying their farewells to Clea and Calandria, who were wrapped around each other and talking in low voices, probably about the trauma they had just gone through. Mei must have left some time ago, as her things were gone. The two doctors helped him into their car and drove home. Jack rested his head on the window, not having the slightest idea where he was going. When they got to an apartment block somewhere, they stopped the car and hauled him out. He leaned on Urbano, since he was tall enough to take Jack's weight, as they took the lift, Jack not saying anything and just trying to stay conscious. He fell asleep as soon as he was laid out on the couch, a bucket shoved beside his head.

He woke around midnight, some rustling disturbing him from his sleep. Opening his eyes and sitting up, he felt his stomach churn, and grabbed the bucket before his vomit went everywhere. He felt the eyes of Red and Urbano watching him with concern, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Any chance of a glass of water?" he croaked. Red directed him to the kitchen, where he rinsed out the sawdust taste from his mouth. Coming back into the living room, he stopped and stared. "That looks like fun," he commented on the sight of two naked men twisted around each other and trying to stay on a white mat with coloured spots.

"Naked Twister," Urbano explained with a smirk. "Mei disapproves, so we only play when she's not here." Reading the expression on Jack's face, he asked, "You game?"

"Hell yeah." Jack stripped off and joined them on the floor, ignoring his headache.

When he finally collapsed and the other two men fell in a hot heap on top of him, it was decided that the game was over. Jack was grinning from ear to ear, having not had fun like that in a long time. When the weight lifted from on top of him, he rolled over and met the lust-filled gazes of two young and gorgeous men, and gulped. They'd all consumed a substantial amount of alcohol, and they'd all suffered from quite a shock just a few hours ago, so it seemed only fitting that the night would take him here. He wasn't sure which one kissed him first, but after that there was no going back, and the three of them ended up together in the king-sized bed in the next room, the duvet kicked off due to the fact that it was just too damn hot.

And if the name Jack shouted out as he reached his pleasure sounded like something you would knit, well, neither Red nor Urbano commented on it.


	13. Rewind

Jack woke up after an hour's sleep or so, foreign sweaty limbs tangled with his own. In the dim light of the bedroom, he could see two men lying on either side of him, snoring softly. The smells of sex and alcohol invaded his nostrils, and the memories flooded back. He slipped out of the bed and went into the living room, where his clothes lay in a heap on the carpet. He threw them on, needing to get out of there. What he had done was wrong, all wrong, and he couldn't stay a moment longer. He made his way out of the apartment building and into the street outside. He wandered around for a while, not sure where he was going but having the urge to get very drunk and forget everything that had happened in the past eight hours.

Eventually he found a club that was still open, and didn't hesitate to go in. Ignoring his body's protests, he ordered several shots – he couldn't remember what exactly – and skulled them all. He had no idea how long he'd be in there when someone tapped him on the shoulder and asked him to leave, as it was closing time. So he stumbled outside, back on the streets with no idea where the hell he was.

He walked down the pavement, taking in a street sign with blurry letters which spelt Karangahape Rd without knowing its significance. He noticed a few scantily-dressed girls standing in the shadows, but walked past without sparing them a second glance. A beer bottle lay on the ground in front of him; he gave it a kick, sending it rolling away. He swore, and shouted, and kicked anything that was in his path. He'd cheated on Ianto, not even a week after promising to be faithful to him, and he was lost and missing Cardiff. He remembered suddenly why he didn't drink that often – when he did, he couldn't stop. After everything he'd seen and all the years he had lived through, there were so many reasons why he shouldn't stop. He disgusted himself. Fuck, he was a bloody mess. He wanted to go home.

He didn't notice the two policemen until he'd walked right into them. When they grabbed his arms, he trying hitting them to get away, and swore when his limbs didn't obey his brain.

"I'm arresting you for drunk and disorderly behaviour," said one of the cops as he got out a set of handcuffs.

"You can't do that!" Jack protested, swatting away the handcuffs. "I'm Torchwood; you can't arrest me!"

"I don't care who you are, Mr Torchwood, but we're taking you to the station. You're in no fit state to be out on the streets."

* * *

He came to in a police cell, blinded by the light, ears ringing, head pounding. Everything hurt, and he hadn't even died from alcohol poisoning. He wished he had, for at least that way he would have recovered and not had to deal with the universe's biggest hangover. He groaned, and kept his eyes tightly shut. He couldn't even remember why –

Yes, he could. He remembered the death and resurrection of Calandria Blanco Diaz, the manifestation of Isis, and the threesome with Red and Urbano. He groaned. Being unfaithful to Ianto was the part that hurt the most about last night. Goosebumps formed on his arms, but his face was hot. He tried to keep his breathing steady. He was going to have make a very sincere apology to Ianto, and he wasn't sure that he would be forgiven. If he could go back, rewind and do things differently, he would have gone back to the hotel with Gwen. She wouldn't have let him do what he did. She kept him in line and made sure he didn't stray, even when it was none of her business. He needed her to keep him human.

He checked the time: 7:34am. He sighed, wondering when he would be let out. He'd tried yelling out his authorisation code, but it hadn't been recognised here. Apparently his name meant nothing in New Zealand. That was a shock – back home he had power and authority, but here he was no-one, just a tourist with an American passport.

He dozed off for a time, wanting to get out of the cell so that he could call Ianto and confess his sins. Steady footsteps and the clacking of high heels made him jump to attention and then wish he hadn't as he doubled over and emptied his stomach onto the floor. Groaning, he wiped his mouth and stood up straight. An unimpressed policewoman unlocked the cell, a tall, blonde woman standing behind her. Jack recognised Calandria and noticed that she looked well, if a little tired, considering what had occurred last night. He was let out of the cell and followed Calandria out of the police station.

"Thanks for getting me out," he said when they reached a yellow Mini.

"It's just part of my job," she sighed. "Although it's the least fun part. I way prefer working with technology."

Jack studied her face, thinking. His thoughts were much clearer now that most of the alcohol he'd consumed that night and early that morning had left his system. "I could change that," he told her. "We need a technician in Cardiff, and Gwen is such an excellent police liaison that one is enough. I'd be happy to offer you a position." He hoped that just because she'd bailed him out of jail didn't mean she thought he was unprofessional.

But to his relief, she smiled at him. "Thank you. I'll think about it."

He nodded. "Good." Then he noticed that she hadn't responded to his words with an innuendo, which, knowing her, she should have done, and he frowned. "Are you okay?" he asked with concern.

She hesitated before answering. "I think so. Last night was a bit of blow, but I think Clea is more shaken than me. But we'll be alright," she decided, setting her jaw in determination. "Are you okay?" she asked after a minute, looking at the vomit on his shoes, then putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Not really," he admitted. The smallness of his voice and the honesty of his response startled him. He didn't know whether it showed how bad a state he was in or whether Calandria was good at getting the truth out, but if it were the latter, then he would be glad to have her on his team.

"Yeah," she sympathised, "I feel you." Then she changed the subject. "Clea wanted you and Gwen to come in to headquarters today so she can add what you witnessed last night to the reports, but I think you need a rest. You can come in later, if you want. Do you want me to drop you off at the Ibis?"

"Yes please," he sighed.

She opened the door for him and drove him to Ellerslie.

* * *

It was half past nine when Jack got back to his hotel room. He picked up his phone and sent Ianto a text: _Can you come on skype?_

The reply was instant: _I don't know, can you make me?_

Jack smirked, but sobered when he remembered why he wanted to talk to his partner. _It's serious._

_I was just about to go home but i'll be on in 5._

_Thank you_

He bit his nails as he waited for Ianto to accept the call on his computer, anticipating the end of their relationship. He didn't expect forgiveness; he'd been in enough relationships to know that if you cheated, that was usually it, but this time he actually regretted doing it and was full of guilt, which was a new one for him.

The dialling tone ended and Ianto's face popped up on Jack's screen. Jack's eyes brightened at the sight of his partner, though his expression was otherwise serious. "Good morning."

"Good evening, cariad. Is everything okay?" Ianto's wonderful accent and concerned words made what Jack had to say even harder.

"No," he whispered to himself. He cleared his throat and spoke into the webcam. "No. I've had a really shitty fourteen hours."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

_Bless him, he always knows the right thing to say._ "Yeah, that's why I wanted to talk to you." Jack took a deep breath and recounted the events of last night, from the Nostrovite chase to Gwen's departure from the bar in Newmarket to going home with Urbano and Red. Ianto was sympathetic, and all Jack wanted was for his partner's arms to be around him, telling him it was okay.

"Then what?" Ianto prompted after Jack had fallen silent for too long.

Jack looked away from the screen, gathering the courage to tell Ianto what he had done. When he looked back at the screen, his eyes avoided the camera, shamed by what he was about to say. "Then I cheated on you."

Expecting a gasp, or swearing, or a bunch of insults from the young man, Jack was surprised at the silence and lack of reaction he received instead: Ianto's soft gaze hardened a little, but that was all. "I'm so sorry," Jack choked out. "I was drunk, and after what happened we were all shaken, and they were just there, you know? I'm sorry, Ianto. I really shouldn't have done it and I don't expect you to forgive me, but I want you to know that I love you and I'm so sorry."

He was so miserable and wrapped up in his apologies that he didn't even hear Ianto's mumbled response, which was, "Must be karma for flirting with Cate this morning." He did, however, hear Ianto's next reply, which was meant for his ears. "Jack, you must know that I'm a forgiving person. If I can forgive you for killing my girlfriend eighteen months ago, I can forgive you for falling into bed with two guys when you were completely drunk and scared by what had happened earlier that night."

Jack stared at his screen. "What?"

"I don't think I could forgive you if you had been sober, but I understand that you weren't in the right state of mind last night. You're the most loyal person I know; you wouldn't have done it if you were yourself. So it's okay, Jack, I accept your apology."

It was almost too good to be true. Biting his lip, Jack nodded and said, "I don't deserve you."

"Probably not," Ianto agreed. "But just so you know, if this happens again, it's over between you and me. Not amount of grovelling can excuse a second time."

"No, I… I understand. What I did was so wrong, and if by some strange circumstance I do it again, you're allowed to hate me all you want. But I won't let it won't happen again," Jack decided, his jaw set in determination.

"Good," said his beautiful partner, "but I could never hate you." He shook his head. "I love you too much, Jack."

"Thank you, Ianto," Jack whispered. Tears threatened to escape his eyes. Ianto was right about being a tolerant person. It scared Jack, the thought that he could do something really bad, like murder his whole family, and Ianto would still forgive him some day.

All thoughts about forgiveness, however, left his mind when Ianto shifted in front of the camera and his collar became visible. Jack sat up straight, eyes narrowed. The navy blue collar was extremely familiar… "Hey, are you wearing my-"

"Nope. Bye!" Ianto ended the call.

Jack sighed. He was still tense, although a small weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and he hoped that the remaining guilt would disappear after he talked to his lover in person on his return home. "I miss you," he whispered to the empty screen.


	14. End of an Era

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters in one day, you lucky people! I think it's only fair, considering that I haven't updated in ages. I wrote these chapters while I was on holiday at my dad's and I didn't have internet so there were no distractions and I could just write. There will only be two more chapters after this, unless you desperately crave an epilogue, so if you have any requests for things you want to see in the last two chapters, ask me now.

Gwen knocked on Jack's door a few days later. "Clea wants to meet with us today to discuss if there are any of her team you want to steal. Have you made any decisions?" she asked when he let her into his room.

He raised one eyebrow. "Good morning to you too," he said, and gestured for her to sit down anywhere in the room. "As a matter of fact, yes, I have. First, we need a technician, so I want to take Calandria on."

"Not Mei?"

"No, she reminds me too much of Tosh." Jack's experienced eyes were pained.

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing," Gwen nodded. She too felt that working with Mei would be a sore reminder of their previous tech expert, and she trusted her boss's judgement on this one.

"And besides, Callie told me that she would prefer to do more technical work and less police work. If she joined us that's what she would be doing, so I think she'd be happy in Cardiff."

She couldn't argue with that. "She's a good choice. Anyone else?"

Jack sighed – this was the tricky bit. "We need a medic," he stated. "We've observed both Urbano and Red in the field, and while they are both impressive-" Gwen coughed- "I think that Red is the man for us. Despite his nickname, he has proved that he's calm and compassionate, which is exactly what we need in a doctor. Urbano, on the other hand, would be a distraction. What do you think?"

Gwen smirked. "I think that you're an excellent judge of character, of both yours and others'. Have you spoken to them about it?"

He told her that Callie had said she would think about it, but that he hadn't talked to Red yet, having kept his distance from both doctors during the past couple of days. Gwen didn't know what had happened but didn't ask, and although she had her suspicions, she kept them to herself. He then asked if she was ready to go into the city so they could go and talk to Clea.

"Sure am," she said, and went to grab her handbag.

* * *

Two hours later, Clea called her team in to join her, Jack, and Gwen in the boardroom. She sat at the head of the table, a tablet in front of her on which she both wrote notes and consulted them. She addressed her team: "I've spoken to our friends from Cardiff about possible recruitments, and they are delighted to offer two positions at Torchwood Three. They propose that Calandria and Andrew join their team, however, this is obviously open for discussion. Before I ask for everyone else's opinions, I want to hear the thoughts of those I named. Red?" She turned to the doctor first.

He cleared his throat. "I am happy here, doing what I love with people I love," he began, making eye contact with Mei and Urbano. "However, I've always wanted to work in another country, and this would be the perfect opportunity to do so, probably the only opportunity I will get as a Torchwood agent. I'll have to think about the proposal, but at this stage it's a definite maybe from me."

"Thank you, Red," Clea nodded. "Callie?"

The blonde gave her leader a weak smile, and didn't hold her gaze for long. "Like Red, I was content here with my work and personal life, but given recent events, I want change. I want to do more technological research and be closer to the people I work with. It will be difficult to adjust to the move, like it was hard to adjust to Auckland after having lived in Christchurch for so long, but I think working in Cardiff with a smaller team will give me the change I need and challenge me to become a better person. So I accept the offer." Speech over, she nodded her thanks to Jack.

"Thanks, Cal." Clea's voice was sad, but not surprised.

In the brief pause that followed those two words, Gwen realised from the woman's tone and expression that the director of Torchwood Four did not want Calandria to go, for obvious personal reasons, but would not hold her back. She approved of Clea's professionalism, having let her own emotions get in the way of a mission and guide her conduct many times in the past, to varying degrees of success and lack thereof. However, unlike Clea she was surprised at Callie's willingness to go, since the blonde woman had looked so confident and secure doing what she did here in New Zealand, and Gwen wondered if something had happened between her and Clea. Perhaps the whole goddess thing had put a strain on their relationship. Finding out that you were an incarnation of Isis had to be a difficult thing for anyone to get over - she was still having trouble understanding it herself – and she decided that if the events of a few nights ago were the deciding factor of Callie's choice to leave, then she wouldn't blame her.

The meeting continued, Clea informing her team of what extra duties some of them would need to perform if both Calandria and Red went to Cardiff. Jim said that he would take on liaising with the police, and Urbano said that he could do the medical work on his own if he put in a few more hours a week. Their director seemed to think that this was fair, and it wasn't long before she ended the meeting and Callie, Mei, and the doctors went to the staffroom together for their lunch break. Clea held Gwen and Jack back for a moment to invite them to dinner at her place in a few days' time.

"It's basically a Christmas do," she explained. "The whole team's coming, even Jim and Leila, and it would be great to have you two there."

Never one to miss a party, Jack accepted the invitation at once, as did Gwen.

"Now, I have a very important lunch date," Clea said, picking up her blazer and rolling her eyes, which Jack took as a sign that she was meeting someone higher up, maybe an official from UNIT, if the organisation existed in this country, and he empathised with her. "You guys can go or hang around here if you want, but most of the others are on their lunch break, so it might be boring. I won't be back for a while; you may as well make the most of your time."

"Hmm, we might go shopping or see a movie or something," Jack said, glancing down at Gwen, whose face lit up.

"Ooh yes, I want to watch the new _Hobbit_ movie! Can we do that?"

He smiled at her. "Sure. Let's go out for lunch first, though."

* * *

The next day, Red had won tickets to a rugby game through the radio, and asked who wanted to come. Urbano and Callie were the first to accept the tickets, being fans of the sport, and Leilani wanted to come but said that she and her husband were taking their sons to _The Hobbit_ that night. She explained that she just couldn't miss it, as it was the last movie in the series (the end of an era, as she said, believing that Middle-earth wouldn't be brought to life in any more films) and her boys were excited for the big battle that the movie was named after, the Battle of Five Armies. Neither Jim nor Mei were into rugby, and Clea was busy, so Red asked Jack and Gwen to come. Jack was reluctant to go, but Gwen pressured him into going, her reason being that he had to watch a game once in his life. He sighed, and gave in.

Gwen, Callie, Red, and Urbano were active spectators of the game, cheering and booing often, while Jack alternated between watching the game and watching his companions' reactions in bemusement. Shaking his head, he just couldn't understand why they got so into it. Then again, he supposed that if they travelled in time and space to his home planet they would find the sports there just as strange as he found the ones played on 21st Century Earth.

At halftime, Gwen and Callie went to get chips for everyone, and Jack was left sitting with the two doctors. Sensing the discomfit that Jack felt by being alone with him and Urbano, Red made small talk with him for a little while, and then proceeded to smooth things out, stating that if they were to work together, there couldn't be any of this awkwardness between them. Thankful for this, Jack agreed that they should accept that it had been a mistake, albeit fun at the time, and that they should forget about it and move on. Satisfied by this, Red then began to explain the sport to Jack, having realised that the man had no idea what was going on. When the girls returned, they saw the three men talking about the game, and Gwen smiled, observing her friend's attempts to fit in and act like a total bloke.

For the second half of the match, Jack cheered and booed with his companions, feeling much more comfortable and less out of place than he had been. They left Eden Park together, still cheering after the team they'd been supporting had won. They piled into Callie's car and she drove them to their destinations, smiling like Gwen when she noticed that Jack was no longer avoiding speaking or even looking at her two team mates.

"I've made my decision," Red announced all of a sudden, and the others quietened.

"What decision?" asked Gwen.

Urbano reached over Gwen to put his hand on Red's thigh, as if giving him strength. "I'll come to Cardiff to work with you at Torchwood Three," he said.

Jack turned around from the passenger seat to shake his hand, and Gwen gave him an awkward squeeze, trying to work around the seatbelts. "That's great!" she exclaimed, grinning.

Jack echoed the sentiment, smiling to himself. He was stealing two valuable members of Clea Grey's team, and he couldn't wait for Ianto to meet them. He was sure that his partner would get on much better with Red than he had with Owen, and thought that he would like Calandria too. "Hey," he said to the two agents who had decided to transfer to Wales, "would you like to meet Ianto over Skype? I'm sure I can arrange something for tomorrow morning, if you want."

They agreed at once, excited to be introduced to the one member of the Cardiff team who they would soon be working with but hadn't met yet. With eagerness that equalled theirs, Jack got out his phone and sent his partner a text to arrange the call.

* * *

The Skype call went well - Jack asked Ianto to prepare for the arrival of their new team members, Ianto said that he'd always thought they needed a blonde on the team and that he was looking forward to meeting Calandria and Red in person when they came back with Jack and Gwen, and Martha briefly said hi, to Gwen and Jack's delight - although it was cut short when the team had to go and investigate an alien sighting at Mission Bay. Later, Clea, Jack, Gwen, and Mei ate fish and chips on the beach, swatting away seagulls and ignoring the playful screams of young children playing in the sand.

"Your first fish and chips in New Zealand," Clea stated. "What do you think?"

"They're very good," answered Gwen, speaking around the piece of fish she was chewing. "Hot and crispy. Could do with some vinegar though."

"Vinegar?" Clea repeated, voice rising with disbelief. "On your fish and chips?"

"That's how we eat them in the UK," Gwen explained, and Mei backed her up.

"Even the thought." Clea shuddered. Then she had an epiphany. "Is that why we have salt and vinegar flavoured potato chips?"

Mei shrugged. "Yeah, probably."

"Wow, I never would have thought. Guess you learn something new every day, don't you?"

Gwen agreed. "I learnt that you guys don't put vinegar on your fish and chips; you learnt that we do. It's a fair trade, I think."

* * *

The next thing they knew, it was Gwen and Jack's last night in New Zealand, and they were arriving at Clea's apartment on the North Shore for her dinner party. Gwen wore a summery dress that she had bought after going to see _The Hobbit_ , while Jack wore a smart pair of jeans and one of his trademark blue shirts. He'd found that he hadn't actually missed his coat too much, since it had been too warm to need it, and if he'd wore it here he would have looked even more out of place than he did in Cardiff when he wore it.

Clea welcomed them in and led them through to the fancy dining and living area, where most of the Torchwood Four team were sitting and chatting away. The host disappeared into the kitchen but promised to bring out some nibbles and drinks. Gwen plonked herself down on the leather couch next to Callie, who was talking to Jim about the police liaison duties that he would be taking on once she left the next day, and Gwen was able to share her experiences and give the accountant some insight into what he was getting himself into.

Leilani was the last to arrive, just minutes after Jack and Gwen, and she joined Jack in observing the others. "Mei and Urbano will be pretty upset at Red for leaving," she commented, watching the three of them deep in a serious conversation on the other side of the room, "and Clea will miss Calandria like mad, but they'll cope. Torchwood agents have unbelievable coping mechanisms, from what I've seen in my two years here."

"Oh, you have no idea," Jack replied, thinking of the many horrors he'd seen Torchwood members go through during his time with the institute.

"I'm the only one that Clea's met who has kids," she continued. "It's a hard and short life for us, even the secretaries. I never go out in the field because I have to be there for my sons, but I still see some horrible things, and I see what happens to the others when they come back after a mission has gone wrong and broken them. You have to be strong at Torchwood."

Jack nodded. "Who do you think is the strongest out of your team?" he asked, curious.

"Callie, without a doubt. She's annoying and flirts with almost everyone, whether occasion calls for it or not, but she's gone through so many traumas and always gets back up on her feet again, and I respect her for it," Leila answered, surprising Jack. She must have seen the surprise written on his features, for she lowered her voice and added, "Clea is strong too, and a good leader, but from what I've heard, Callie had a rough childhood and was pretty much disowned by her parents, so she was damaged even before she joined Torchwood."

"Her parents disowned her?" he repeated.

"Shh! I shouldn't be spilling her secrets but you should probably know, if she's going to be working for you, and she won't tell you because she doesn't want anyone to pity her or think she feels sorry for herself." She looked up to make sure that the others weren't listening in before she continued. "She got up the duff in her last year of school and her parents were mad but, being Catholics, they didn't let her get an abortion. So she left school to have the baby, but of course her boyfriend ran and left her to raise the newborn on her own. She had to rely on her parents for support and they weren't happy about that, since they'd wanted her to leave home and go to university, so they pressured her into leaving. According to Jim, who was a friend of hers before he moved up here in 2002, the baby got sick and died before she could even make arrangements to move out. Her parents blamed her for being a bad parent and not providing for the baby, even though she was living with them, and forced her out of the house."

"That's terrible." His words couldn't convey the anger he felt. He took a sip of his beer that Clea had provided them all with. "How did she end up at Torchwood?"

"She got a part-time job and went back to school so she could get into university, decided that wasn't for her and went to police college instead. Torchwood employed her in 2008, having read about her success on missions in the force, and as far as I know she hasn't thought much about her past since," Leila finished, taking a sip from her own beer.

"Wow, that's quite a backstory," Jack commented, thinking about his police liaison's past and deciding that it didn't compare to Callie's. "I've always thought that the people who look the happiest are actually the saddest. I'll look after her," he promised.

Leila opened her mouth to reply but just then Clea came into the room and announced that dinner was ready. She and Jack got up to sit at the table, the sound of chairs scraping on the floor and the presence of others preventing them from continuing their conversation. Jack found himself sitting opposite Gwen and next to Mei, Clea at the head of the table on his left. "Dig in, everyone," their host ordered.

There were two roasts, lamb and ham, and plenty of roasted vegetables, salad, and a nice focaccia bread to top it off. Everyone ate and drank their fill, talking loudly about this coming Christmas and those in the past, laughing and cringing as they exchanged stories. The Torchwood Four team toasted drinks to the two members they were losing to the UK and made speeches, wishing Red and Calandria good luck for the future. When most of the food on the table had disappeared, Clea asked if anyone wanted dessert, which everyone did. She told them it would be ready in half an hour, and asked Callie to help her clear the table, telling the others that she'd call them back to the table when dessert was ready.

Gwen left the table to go to the toilet, the beer she'd drunk having gone straight through her. She disappeared from view of the others and walked around, admiring the posh and expensive apartment and looking for a bathroom. She opened one door which revealed a master bedroom and, spying an en-suite, popped in to use it. She was drying her hands and about to unlock the bathroom door when she heard two people enter the bedroom and start talking. She stayed frozen where she was.

"The thing is, you're leaving tomorrow, and I know you won't be coming back to visit," said one of the voices. "I can't do a long-distance relationship, babe, not when I know that I'll never see you again. It just wouldn't work. I'm sorry, but there's no other option but to-"

"Break up?" the other voice cut in. "That's your solution to everything, isn't it? After the stress of the earthquake you thought it would be a good idea to have a break while we healed, just when we needed each other the most, and you came running to me a month later, desperate and lonely, wanting to get back together. I was fine with the idea of a long-distance relationship, fine with even being on the other side of the fucking planet, if you were committed to it, but I see now that you're not."

"It wouldn't work! How could two people living on opposite sides of the planet possibly have a relationship?"

"We could make it work! Or at least, _I_ thought we could. If you're not willing to even give it a chance, you obviously don't love me as much as I thought."

"You're not being reasonable! Of course I love you! You're the one who decided to leave, so how could you accuse _me_ of not loving you?"

Gwen felt the urge to sneeze but repressed it, forced to stay where she was and in silence for fear of giving away her presence in the spotless en-suite.

"Fine, so we're breaking up. I can live with that. But if for one second you think that crawling back to me and begging me to take you back-"

"I won't be crawling back to you because I'll be back here in Auckland while you're in Cardiff! I've made my decision and you can't get me to change my mind." There was a pause, and when Clea spoke again the atmosphere seemed to have changed to one of regret, as she then said, "You know, I was going to ask you to marry me, before I found out that you're the incarnation of a bloody goddess and you decided to leave me for Torchwood Three."

"You were?" Gwen only just made out Callie's words, as they were spoken almost in a whisper.

"Yes. I was going to take you out to dinner at the Viaduct and get down on one knee and everything." Clea laughed bitterly. "It's never going to happen now."

"I'm sorry. It's all my fault again, isn't it?"

"No, if it's anyone's fault it's mine. I should have taken the chance when I had it, and now it's too late." Gwen wasn't sure which one of them sighed, but she guessed it was Clea. "Have a good life, Cal. And shine bright."

"Like a diamond?" Calandria guessed.

"I was going to leave it there, but if you like similes, sure." The two women laughed. "I'd better get back to the kitchen to finish the pav."

The door closed behind Callie and Clea as they left, and Gwen breathed a sigh of relief, able to get out of the bathroom at last. She counted to ten, giving them enough time to go down the hallway before she opened the bedroom door and went back to join the others, some of which were playing poker. She suspected that Jack had instigated the game, although since the cards were pink she doubted they were his. Calandria wasn't in there, and she wondered if the blonde woman was helping her now ex in the kitchen or crying in another room somewhere. Biting her lip, she worried about her, but decided that she would have plenty of time on the plane tomorrow to comfort the woman if she needed it.

When dessert was served, everyone expressed their gratitude to the host, drooling over their plates. Gwen recognised a Christmas pudding but had to ask what the white meringue-looking thing was. When Jim explained that it was a pavlova, she said that she thought pavlova was Australian, which earned her a death glare from Red, who, even though he was emigrating tomorrow, was quite the patriot. She ate a big slice of it to gratify him.

Both Clea and Calandria had red-rimmed eyes, but since no-one commented on it, Gwen wondered if she was the only one who noticed. Certainly she was the only one who knew the reason for it. She kept her mouth shut for most of the evening, knowing that discreet was not something she excelled at and realising that this was something she should keep to herself. It was hard, but she managed it, and by the time she and Jack left for their hotel (she ensured that they were the first ones to leave so the others had privacy to say their goodbyes) she had almost forgotten about the conversation she had overheard.


	15. I’ll Say Goodbye (Even Though I’m Blue)

Gwen and Jack got up early the next morning to ensure that they would have enough time to pack and get to the airport for their flight. Gwen shoved all her belongings in her suitcase and asked Jack to sit on it so she could zip it up. "What the hell have you got in here?" the man asked with bemusement after he'd stood back up.

"Clothes, shoes, my laptop, souvenirs, shoes…" she shrugged. Her face was pink from the exertion of zipping up the suitcase. "Gotta be ready, as you always say."

He laughed. "I can't argue with that. But seriously, how many pairs of shoes have you got in there?" he asked, staring at her luggage.

"Well, let's see." She began counting on her fingers. "I've got my flip-flops, trainers, high heels, flats, and walking boots. What about you?" she asked him in turn.

"Just the ones I'm wearing now and a pair of Converse that Owen persuaded me to buy about two years ago." Now it was his time to shrug. Surprisingly, saying Owen's name didn't sadden him or cause him to get lost down memory lane, and this made him hopeful that he was moving on from that terrible day several months ago where he'd lost Tosh, Owen, and Gray, the brother he hadn't seen for centuries. In the two thousand years that he'd been buried under Cardiff, Jack had almost forgotten his Torchwood family. Perhaps in another two thousand he would forget about that day.

But for now, he and Gwen were to meet Clea outside the hotel.

Clea had driven all the way from the North Shore to take them to the airport in Manukau, South Auckland, but she said she wanted to do it so she could say goodbye to them all. Callie and Red were already in the car and it was a bit of a squeeze with all the bags, but they managed it. They had no leg room to speak of, but they managed it.

The early hour meant that they were all bleary-eyed, except for the driver, so the trip to the airport was a mostly silent one, no-one feeling awake enough to engage in intelligent conversation. It was just after seven by the time they stumbled into the international terminal, though the sun was well and truly up, and it was a shame that most of the group were going to be stuck on a plane when it looked like it was going to be such a nice day here in Auckland. Jack sighed; he was eager to return home to Cardiff and to Ianto, but he'd enjoyed his stay in New Zealand. Even though it had been a work trip, it had felt almost like a holiday, and spending time away had caused him to see things – such as what he had back home – more clearly, as well as giving him some ideas about how he could improve how he ran Torchwood Three.

Once the four travellers had checked in their luggage, with Clea trailing behind them, it was time for them to go through security and customs. The leader of Torchwood Four turned to Gwen first, pulling her in for a brief hug. "It was good to meet you," Clea smiled. "You've been a great help."

"You too," Gwen returned the smile. "I'd love to come back sometime." She didn't add what they already knew – that the chances of her returning to New Zealand were very slim. With their line of work, it was extremely rare that she could leave Cardiff for any reason, especially for a holiday on the other side of the world.

Clea nodded in acknowledgement of the words that had remained unspoken, and moved on to say goodbye to Jack. She stuck out her hand to shake it, but he wrapped his arms around her and gave her a (surprisingly, for him) chaste kiss on the lips, taking her by surprise. "Thanks for coming all this way to help," she told him; "much appreciated."

He gave her the Harkness grin. "Don't mention it. If you ever need anything else, you just have to call."

Grinning back, she pulled away and stepped towards Red, and her grin faded as she hugged him tight. His arms were tight around her as well, both of them knowing that this farewell was likely forever. "These last few years have been good, eh?" she said, still holding onto her friend.

He nodded. "The best," he answered.

"No regrets?" she couldn't help asking.

"Not one." He pulled back a bit so he could look her in the eye. "Never," he added, gripping her shoulder to make sure she listened.

She nodded, and attempted a smile. "I'll miss you, Red. Don't be a stranger."

He matched her smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I'll miss you too, Clea. And I'll stay in touch."

"You'd better," she told him, a mock stern expression on her face, and they laughed together before pulling each other in for one last hug. Patting Red's arm, she moved on to Calandria, who had tears in her eyes. Knowing Callie as well as she did, Clea wasn't surprised at this random crack in the permanently bright façade that the blonde woman put on. The two stood looking at each other, not knowing what to say, until Clea finally moved forwards and embraced the other woman.

Gwen watched on, observing the hushed conversation that went on between the two but not understanding a word. She suspected their exchange was similar to the one Clea had just had with Red, but more intimate, knowing the nature of the relationship. She did hear one line, though, that made tears of sympathy come to her eyes.

Clea whispered in Callie's ear, "Remember: I loved you," and pulled away.

Both women's eyes were red and wet, and Gwen could see that it took all of their strength to part from each other. Clea took a few steps back and addressed the group. "You have a good flight, guys. And keep in touch, yeah?" They all answered in the affirmative. "Merry Christmas," she told them with a watery smile.

"Merry Christmas," they echoed, and she waved at them and walked away.

The travellers waited until Clea had gone from their line of sight before turned around and making their way towards security, not one of them speaking a word.

* * *

The first part of the flight was mostly uneventful, the four Torchwood agents mostly chatting or napping or watching movies. At one point Gwen noticed that Callie was struggling to keep her emotions together, and the Welshwoman encouraged her to talk, suggesting that it would be better to say what was on her mind rather than keeping it to herself. As suspected, Callie's sadness was due to her leaving her home country and breaking up with the woman she loved. Gwen listened with patience, letting the other woman talk about what was bothering her and offering her a few tissues when needed. Jack met Gwen's eye for a second but didn't say anything, knowing that the Welshwoman was doing what she was good at and not wanting to get involved. He let her get on with her role as unqualified yet capable counsellor.

When they landed in Los Angeles for their stopover, they took a bus to a mall in a neighbouring suburb, Callie and Gwen presumably going off for some girly shopping, while Red and Jack were left to wander around the mall. The two men were browsing in a bookshop, looking for possible Christmas presents, when a jeweller's caught Jack's eye. He laid a hand on Red's shoulder and told him he'd be back in a minute.

Sure enough, Jack was back almost before Red had registered his departure, carrying a small plastic bag and wearing a small but unmistakeable smile on his face. Red raised one eyebrow, and asked to see what was inside the bag. Jack obliged, and opened the tiny red box to show the Kiwi a glimpse of what was in it. Red's eyebrows almost disappeared under his fringe.

"We still have to work out some issues," Jack said, knowing that Red knew who he was talking about, "mostly mine, but when we get there… I'm going to ask."

Red grinned. "I didn't have you pegged as a romantic, Jack."

"Yeah, well, sometimes you just know," Jack answered.

Red nodded his agreement. "Yeah." Being a bloke, he didn't have much to add on the subject, and Jack didn't have to elaborate, as the other man understood what he meant, and they weren't particularly close this early on in their acquaintance.

Jack smiled and put the little box back in its bag, then tucked it inside his backpack. "So, find anything interesting in here?" he asked, meaning the bookshop.

"Yeah, I've found a couple of things," Red replied, holding up a few books he'd picked from the shelves. "I feel stupid for not having done my Christmas shopping earlier, because now I'll have to send these back home to their receivers. But I guess I always leave buying presents till the last minute."

Jack made a noncommittal noise in reply. He'd never really got into the whole Christmas thing, never really had anyone to do it with. Sure, there'd been the occasional year where he'd spent it with a lover or whoever passed as his family at the time, but in general he wasn't the type to _do_ Christmas. He liked the idea of good food and great cheer, but, having lived through the entire 20th Century, he'd watched with distaste as the holiday became more and more commercialised.

"Do you have any plans for Christmas, once we get to Cardiff?" Red asked, startling Jack from his thoughts.

Jack shrugged. The Rift was usually quiet on Christmas Day, the alien-related incidents happening in not so faraway London, and he always made an effort to give the team the day off to spend with their loved ones while he sat alone at the Hub, reminiscing of Christmases gone by. "Don't think so. Ianto will probably spend the day with his family, and I'll most likely stay home alone," he replied, not mentioning where his home was. Although these days he spent less of his spare time at the Hub and more at Ianto's flat, and he realised it was possible that by now he had unintentionally moved in with his lover.

"You won't go with him?" Red asked with a frown.

"Well…" Jack began to make excuses about how he'd never met Ianto's family and therefore wouldn't want to intrude, but it occurred to him that Ianto might want him there. He dismissed that thought before he could entertain it for long. Ianto had not once brought up Jack meeting his family, after all, and it wouldn't do to get his hopes up. "If he asks," he said simply. "What about you?"

"I fully intend to spend the day getting over the jetlag that is sure to come," the Kiwi laughed. "Although Cal and I might try and acquaint ourselves with your city. Hanging out in a hotel room by myself on Christmas Day wouldn't be much fun."

As soon as he had agreed to relocate to Cardiff, Red and Calandria had begun the search for somewhere to live. The two had decided that, since they had been friends for some time and would both be new to the Welsh capital, they would find an apartment together and live as flatmates. They'd found a few possible listings online and would check those out when they got to the city, but for now they had booked in at the St Davids Hotel, Torchwood paying for their expenses until they moved into their own place. Due to their impromptu emigration, both had both brought as many clothes and personal items with them as they could, and the rest would be packed up by their (now ex-) partners in Auckland and shipped to their new address in Cardiff, once they got one.

"No, it wouldn't be," Jack agreed, although he had had Christmases that were even less fun, less fun than the Kiwi could even imagine. "Anyway," he said, putting on a happier tone, "I wanted to find something to read for on the plane. Won't be long."

Four minutes later, he reappeared from one corner of the bookshop with a heavy-looking paperback in hand. "What did you get?" Red asked, and Jack held it up so he could see the cover. " _Crime and Punishment_ ," the Kiwi read with raised eyebrows. "A spot of light reading for the trip home, eh?"

Jack laughed. "I tried reading it once, a long time ago, but didn't even get halfway through it. I've always thought that I deprived myself of the feeling of achievement you must get when you finish something this size." The real reason he'd picked it up was because Ianto had mentioned reading it in university and loving it, and he wanted to know why his lover had thought it was so fantastic. But he didn't want to seem that pathetic to the other man.

And by "a long time ago", he meant not that long after it was first published, but he didn't say so. With Red and Callie he had to make sure not to make obvious references to how long he'd been around, and it reminded him of the days before his team - with the exception of Gwen - had known about his immortality. He knew that the recruits would find out eventually, but they would never believe him without seeing it for themselves.

"Well," said Red, who wasn't much of a reader, "good luck." He didn't sound very convinced.

"Thanks. Shall we?" Jack gestured to the big queue lining up for the counter.

* * *

The four Torchwood agents spent the flight from LAX to Heathrow mostly in silence, with Jack nose-deep in his new book and Callie flicking through some magazines she'd bought in Los Angeles in between sleeping and watching a couple of movies. Gwen and Red were left with not much to do, and ended up talking for much of the flight's duration. The majority of their conversation, and this came as a surprise to no-one, was anecdotes about Torchwood, the two of them remembering the good old days. For Gwen, this was before Tosh and Owen had died; for Red, it was before the earthquake in February 2011. What did come as a surprise to the Welshwoman was that when she talked about her two dead colleagues, the pain she had used to feel in her chest at the mention of either of their names no longer arose.

Gwen took a sip of her tea ( knowing it wouldn't be up to Ianto's standards, she hadn't asked for a coffee) and frowned to herself. Jack noticed that she'd stopped talking and looked up. "Are you okay?" he asked her, setting his book down on his lap.

She glanced at him and sighed. "Remember when…" she began, but it came out as a croak. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Remember when Tosh and Owen died and I said I didn't think I could move on from this and you said that we all could?" He nodded. "Well… You were right. It doesn't hurt anymore when I think about when they were alive."

Jack took her hand in his. "That's exactly it. After you've had time to accept it, their deaths are still hard to remember without falling apart, but remembering their lives gets easier with time."

She looked down at their hands and squeezed, then looked back up to meet his eyes. "I think you're the wisest person I've ever met."

His chuckle was a sad one. "You haven't met my Doctor yet. He's seen even more than I have."

She smiled at him, wondering if she would ever meet this Doctor of his. "Anyway, you were right. You're always right. The end _is_ where we start from, and we're starting again." She gestured towards their new teammates. "And I think we'll be stronger than ever before."

_With Calandria Blanco Diaz on our team, you're more right than you know_ , Jack thought, squeezing her hand.


	16. Home Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter, whoo! An epilogue is forthcoming though. Thanks to everyone for reading. You might not have noticed, but several of the chapter titles are actually names of Kiwi songs because I’m sneaky like that.
> 
> Four Seasons in One Day - Crowded House  
> Kill of the Night - Gin Wigmore  
> Light Surrounding You - Evermore  
> Rewind - Jamie McDell  
> I’ll Say Goodbye (Even Though I’m Blue) - The Exponents  
> Home Again - Shihad

It was almost midday on the twenty-fifth of December local time when the travellers arrived in Cardiff. They took a taxi into the city centre, dropping off Red and Calandria at their hotel with specific instructions to go to the water tower on Roald Dahl Plass on Boxing Day, when they would start working at Torchwood Three. The two Kiwis wished Gwen and Jack a merry Christmas before getting out of the taxi and dragging their luggage into reception.

Once they were gone, Jack sighed and stretched out in the car seat. “So,” he said, turning to Gwen, “any plans for today?”

“Well, once Rhys and I have, ah, caught up with things, we might go to my parents’ place in Swansea. I haven’t seen them since the wedding,” she grimaced. It had been much too long since she’d last visited her family and she knew she’d have to explain about her relentless job keeping her so busy for the past six months that she hadn’t been able to take time off. She wasn’t looking forward to it.

Jack tutted. “Don’t let your life drift.”

“Yeah, well,” she sighed. “It’s my job. And my boss is one hell of a slavedriver, expecting me to come in at all hours.”

He mock-glared at her and she laughed. “But seriously,” he said, like he’d told her dozens of times in the past two years, “don’t let it drift.”

She sobered. “I try.”

That was good enough for Jack, and they fell into silence until their taxi pulled up on the Plass. Jack paid the cabdriver, then they hefted their baggage out of the boot and walked towards the invisible lift.

“Home sweet home,” Jack grinned as they stepped onto the concrete slab with their suitcases and began their descent into the Hub.

Gwen smiled back, agreeing with the sentiment. “I had a great time away but it’s good to be home, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely.”

“Ianto honey, we’re home!” she called as the lift clicked into place on the main level of the hub.

Jack glared at her. “That’s my line!”

“You snooze, you lose,” she said, flipping him off.

His pout disappeared when his partner appeared, hurrying towards them. Gwen frowned, taking in Ianto’s pink cheeks, casual clothes, and dishevelled hair and wondering if he’d just woken up. Jack, however, took a step closer to the Welshman and inhaled, then smirked.

“You look a little flustered,” Gwen observed. “Are you okay?”

“Yep,” Ianto was a little too quick to answer, “I was just in the middle of something.”

Still frowning, Gwen leant in just a bit and sniffed, taking in the scent of… “ _No_ ,” she said firmly. “You weren’t just mastur… On _Christmas Day_? Really?”

Ianto blushed, embarrassed at being found out by the Welshwoman.

An evil smile made its way onto Jack’s lips. “You were pleasuring yourself on a holy day, when you knew I would be coming back today.” He tutted and shook his head, but his grin gave him away. “I don’t know whether that’s hilarious or erotic,” he admitted. “What am I going to do with you for starting without me, Ianto Jones?”

Ianto hung his head then looked up at Jack through his eyelashes. “I was rather hoping you might punish me, sir,” he said coyly.

Gwen had gone to collect the presents she’d hidden in her desk, but now she coughed. “Okay, okay, I’m going! Bye you two, have a good afternoon.” She shoved a small gift-wrapped package into each of the men’s hands and, taking her bags with her, left for the cog wheel door.

“Merry Christmas, Gwen!” the two men shouted.

The door rolled behind her before they could hear her reply.

“Martha not around?” Jack asked, setting down his luggage at last and putting away his present for later.

“No, she left last night to get back to London,” replied Ianto, setting down his own gift and taking a step closer to his partner.

Jack had wished to be able to say hi to Martha, but he said, “So no-one will mind if I do this,” and proceeded to slip his arms around Ianto and kiss him senseless.

“In all honesty,” the Welshman piped up as he pulled away, still able to speak, much to Jack’s chagrin, “if she were around, I think she’d just get some popcorn.”

“Hmm,” Jack said without commitment, and brought their lips together once again.

“You’re not wearing a suit,” he observed after a minute, his hands moving down to grasp his partner’s hips.

“I’m not wearing a suit,” Ianto echoed with a small smile.

“Why aren’t you wearing a suit?” Jack asked with no small amount of curiosity. As far as he was concerned, his lover had worn a suit since the day he was born.

“Why would I be wearing a suit?” Ianto shot back, hands working their way under his lover’s shirt. “I have plans for this afternoon that don’t involve formal dress.”

“Oh? What sort of plans?” Jack looked at his Welshman with interest.

“Going to my mum’s for Christmas dinner. I’ll have to leave soon though, to get to Newport in time.”

Jack sighed, having hoped to show Ianto straight away just how happy he was to be back. But before he could say anything, in a casual tone, as if it were completely natural to ask, as if they had done this sort of thing countless times before, Ianto asked, “Want to come?”

Jack leapt at the chance. “I’d love to,” he replied with a grin.

The Welshman gave an appropriate roll of the eyes. “By ‘come’ I meant accompany, not…”

“I know,” Jack replied, pressing a light kiss on the younger man’s ready lips. “But the answer’s still yes.”

Ianto’s pleased smile was all it took to let Jack know that was the right answer. “Good. And afterwards, if you’re very good, you can unwrap your Christmas present,” he said, lowering his voice.

“I’m always good.” Jack nipped at his lover’s ear. “I am very much looking forward to it. But before we go, I have a little something for you.” Letting go of Ianto’s hips, he slid out of the younger man’s embrace and bent over to unzip one of his bags. He retrieved a box and placed it in Ianto’s hands.

The Welshman looked at the box, then at Jack, then the box again, all with both his eyebrows in danger of disappearing under his hair. He grinned. “You want to…?”

“Yep.”

“Really?” Ianto asked, just to make sure.

“Really. I just thought, if you want to… I mean, I definitely want to,” Jack shrugged.

“Do you promise not to cheat?” The younger man stroked the side of the box, his bright eyes fixed on the object and not his partner.

“I promise,” Jack said in earnest.

“Okay, then.” Ianto pressed his lips to Jack’s for a quick peck.

“Really? You will?” Jack’s boyish smile was full of hope.

Ianto nodded and put the box on the nearest flat surface before wrapping his arms around his partner. “Yes, I’ll play Twister with you, Jack,” he assented at last.

_Naked_ Twister, Jack corrected in his mind, and tightened their embrace. Tilting his head, he made sure to pour all his newly discovered feelings into the kiss. He knew that he would have to sit down with the younger man at some point and have a good long conversation about their relationship and his own commitment issues before he could even think about giving Ianto the other, smaller, box. But for now it was enough to be home.


	17. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you guys are interested in who Calandria is but I didn’t want to spell it out. So you'll have to make your own guesses from the hints I’ve dropped. Enjoy!

_**Cardiff, February 2015** _

 

It was to Jack’s (and Gwen’s) surprise and, later, amusement that Ianto had taken a shine to Calandria straight away. Upon meeting the woman, the young man had just stared, and she had stared back. Jack had asked Ianto, a week after Callie and Red had started working for Torchwood Three, what was going on between him and the blonde, and raised his eyebrows in response to the answer he received.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed that she’s beautiful,” Ianto had said.

Indeed, her high cheekbones, straight-edged nose, and bright grey eyes all contributed to Calandria’s good looks. But Jack hadn’t thought his partner was that shallow, being attracted to someone just because he liked what he saw on the outside, and he’d voiced this thought.

The Welshman had smiled, perching on Jack’s desk. “I’m just admiring a work of art,” he’d said. “She’s lovely, on the inside and out, and I admire her a lot.”

“I knew it,” Jack had sighed, his face falling. What he and Ianto had was too good to be true; it was only a matter of time before a woman came along who caught his lover’s eye and -

“But I’m with you,” Ianto had stated, punctuating this with a fierce kiss. “And a woman I find attractive is not going to change the way I feel about you, Jack,” he’d sworn.

Jack’s eyes had lit up and he’d been close to proposing then and there, but the Rift alert had gone off and they were the only two in the building to go and deal with it. It was probably just as well, Jack had thought as he began tapping at keys. As much as they were more than happy in their relationship, they weren’t ready for marriage just yet.

Still, Jack decided to have a little fun with his partner’s attraction to Callie, and the next day he assigned Ianto as her instructor in field training.

* * *

Red and Calandria moved into a flat in Cardiff Bay shortly after moving to the city. Their cars back home were sold, Clea found new tenants for Callie’s apartment, and their belongings had been shipped to the UK. The two Kiwis had been at Torchwood Three for a month and half now, throwing themselves into their work and loving the challenges it brought them.

It was early on a Thursday evening when Ianto took Callie on her first weevil hunt, having spent the first part of their training focussing on firearms instruction and then strength-building before the Welshman had felt that she was ready to try something more real than a simulation exercise. The two of them chased the weevil down a narrow street in Roath, armed with a new weevil spray that Red had developed from one of Owen’s old concoctions but hadn’t tested, and they could see their breaths in the cold winter air. With Calandria’s speed and Ianto’s experience, it didn’t take long for them to subdue the weevil and get it into the boot of the SUV.

Ianto slammed the boot closed and leant against it, puffing hard. “Nice work,” he complimented his trainee.

“Thanks,” she grinned, also sucking in oxygen.

As they slid into the car, Ianto asked, “Hey, want to go for fish and chips?” The weevil would be unconscious for a while, thanks to the strength of Red’s weevil spray, and the young man was getting hungry.

“Sure,” she replied enthusiastically, putting on her seatbelt.

The two ate their fish and chips on a bench in Roath Park, sitting with the parcel between them and stealing chips from each other’s side. Gwen had been astonished at the easy friendship that Ianto and Calandria had struck up, flirting and spending time together and laughing at each other’s jokes. It was almost as if Ianto were Callie’s gay best friend, the Welshwoman thought with good humour, even giving the blonde woman fashion advice when she asked for it. Now, Callie giggled at a story Ianto had told about Gwen walking in on him and Jack, and she made her own innuendos.

“Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me!” a voice made them jump.

Ianto looked up to see a woman who had been about to walk past them but had stopped and was now looking at the two with mild disgust. “Hi Cate,” he said. “Is there a problem?”

Cate Wilson shook her head. “I can’t believe it. Every time I see you, you’re with another woman. In fact, I feel like I’ve seen you flirt with every woman in the city, _except_ your wife.”

Ianto bit back a smirk. Since meeting the redhead again for the first time in years while he was on a short mission with Martha back when Gwen and Jack were in New Zealand, she had bumped into him in public a couple of times. The first time he been having a coffee with Gwen, and the second was a rare occasion on which he had been out having dinner with his sister. And Cate still thought he was married to Martha Jones, just because they had the same last name and Martha wore a gold band on her ring finger. It thoroughly amused him that his old friend thought that he was a player, cheating on his ‘wife’ with numerous other women, when in fact he was in a committed relationship with another man and had not seen Martha since Christmas Eve. But he said nothing to make Cate think otherwise.

“Oh, we’re just friends,” Calandria tried to explain, fluttering her eyelashes a little, but Cate wasn’t having any of it.

“I’ve always had such a high opinion of you, Ianto Jones,” she snapped. “But you’re just like the rest of them. Bastard!” she shouted, and stormed off towards the park entrance, heels clicking on the pavement.

The Welshman winced.

The next time he saw the redhead, he was sitting in a bar a week later, drinking a Jack and Coke and flirting wildly with his lover. He and Jack were having fun with a little roleplay to spice things up, pretending that they were two strangers in a bar in Ibiza. Innuendos and small, lingering touches were flung left, right, and centre. Jack was whispering something dirty in Ianto’s ear, body practically draped around the Welshman, when a familiar, feminine voice cried out, “Oh, come _on_ , Ianto!”  

Ianto groaned. “Cate,” he greeted her.

Cate wore a stormy expression on her face. “How many other people have you slept with, huh? Sleeping your way around Cardiff, is that it? You’re disgusting. Does your wife know about this?”

“Wife?” Jack mouthed to Ianto with a frown.

The young man gave a dramatic sigh and pushed Cate into the stool beside him, more amused than resigned. “Cate, listen. You got the completely wrong idea about me. Martha and I are _not_ married and never were.”

Jack covered up his laugh by pretending to cough. He smirked into his White Russian as he listened to his partner and the strange woman speak.

Cate’s green eyes widened. “You _aren’t_ married to Martha?” she repeated, spluttering a bit. “But I thought… Oh! So all these times I’ve seen you with other women, you weren’t actually cheating?”

Ianto shook his head, his blue eyes bright with amusement. “Winding you up was too funny, so I just let you think that.”

She looked at Jack. “So who’s this then?” she asked.

“Cate, this is Jack, my partner. Jack, this Cate, an old friend of mine,” Ianto introduced the two.

“Your _what_?” Cate said.

“A pleasure to meet you, Cate,” Jack grinned, turning on the charm at last.

“Ah, you too,” the woman stuttered. “I, ah, I should go. Early start tomorrow. See you around, Ianto.”

“Bye, Cate.” The Welshman waved as she left.

“Why the hell did she think Martha was your wife?” Jack growled.

Ianto smirked. “Jealous, are we?” he asked. He used that to his advantage for the rest of the game, resulting in an excellent evening and a very late night for the two of them.

They stumbled into the hub together the next day, both nursing hangovers. Gwen and Red had no pity on them, and Calandria’s eyes never left her computer screen. Jack walked over to her workstation to check on her. She’d asked to be allowed her own personal projects and, even though it was early in her days at Torchwood Three and she should focus on getting into the swing of things in a new work environment, Jack had relented, knowing it had to be done to secure the future.

“How’s it going?” he asked, gazing at her screen. According to the data on it, she was doing some research on wormholes.

She glanced up. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t think I’m making much progress.” She then spouted all this 21st Century rubbish about the impossibility of interstellar travel which made him want to cringe.

Knowing the future end result of her project, he said, “Why don’t you look at mirrors and electricity instead? Be careful though - you don’t want to accidentally give cavemen a pistol that won’t be invented for tens of thousands of years.” He wasn’t giving her too much information, he told himself. He was just giving her a little nudge in the right direction.

She nodded. “Thanks; I’ll do that.” Then she looked at his wrist strap, which he’d been unconsciously caressing. “I’ve been meaning to ask for months: what is that thing?” she asked.

“Just an accessory,” he lied, putting on his nothing-to-see-here smile. “Don’t worry about it.” There was helping her with her project, and then there was _helping_ her. She was never meant to know about vortex manipulators. No-one in this century was, but her especially.

“Anyway,” Jack said, putting one hand on her shoulder, “don’t give up just yet. I have faith in you.”

That was another lie. It wasn’t faith - it was knowledge. He knew for a fact that Calandria Blanco Diaz would succeed. And when she did, she would be brilliant.


End file.
